


Gravity

by OfEndlessWonder



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Mentions of Emaya, Mentions of Paily, Past Ali x Noel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 143,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfEndlessWonder/pseuds/OfEndlessWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But instead you left me behind and you never once looked back and you only ever look out for yourself and I don't know how to believe that you ever gave a shit about me." Slow burn Emison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of background on this story: I thought it'd be interesting (considering the Ali/Noel kiss rumours floating around before 5x09 aired), to think about the shot in the promo where Emily is looking at those photos, and what if one of them was of Ali and Noel together? And the rest sort of stemmed from there.
> 
> I wrote this before 5x09 aired, and it begins immediately after 5x08 ended, with the scene in Hanna's room - except I thought it was Alison's room, so let's pretend for the purposes of this story that Alison told her Dad about the break-in at the Marin house and he rushed home. So it will be canon divergence from 5x08 - I'll still probably use elements from the show but possibly not.
> 
> I know the mystery of -A is the big thing on the show, but I'm more interested in the characters themselves, and that's what I want to primarily focus on in this fic, so -A isn't going to have a huge part in the story.
> 
> There are mentions of Ali x Noel past relationship in this, and there will probably be mentions of Paily too at some point, and Emaya.

_Set me free,_  
 _Leave me be,  
_ _I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity_

* * *

"Do you have any idea how messed up this is?" Emily asks when Spencer's gone home, and it's just her and Alison in the blonde's room, and she's angry,  _furious_  that Alison could pull something like this without  _telling_ them and god, what  _else_  is she hiding from them?

From  _her_?

"Like I said before," Alison mutters back, still messing around with her clothes in the bag, her back to Emily so that the brunette can't see her face. "It worked, didn't it?"

"But that's not the  _point_!" They're alone in the house so she doesn't bother trying to keep her voice down, lets her frustration shine through and when Alison whirls around there's anger in her eyes, too, and Emily wonders if it's because for perhaps the first time, she's daring to challenge her. "Did you even think this through? How  _wrong_ it could have gone?"

"But it  _didn't_ ," Alison hisses, and like this, beautiful and terrible and with a glare etched across her face, her eyes an icy blue, she reminds Emily so much of the old Alison that it breaks her heart, because she thought… she never thought she'd ever had to see her like this again.

And she doesn't want to admit it, doesn't even want to  _think_ it, but deep down she knows that, on-top of everything else, that there's the feeling of jealousy churning within her gut. Because Alison chose  _Noel_ to help her, confided in  _Noel_ , is still in contact with him even now that she's back in Rosewood and she can't… she can't help wondering if she's been a massive idiot this whole time and that behind her back, Alison and Noel laugh about how pathetically in love with Alison she still is, even after all this time, because she'd chosen  _him_ over  _her_.

"Can we just drop this, please?" Alison sighs, and she looks exhausted, when Emily dares to glance at her, like the weight of all her secrets and lies are getting to be too much for her. "What's done is done, and I can't take it back now."

"That doesn't make it  _okay_ ," Emily snaps back because she's not ready to let this go, she's not ready for this to be yet another thing that they never talk about again (and she's not bitter about the fact that Alison hasn't brought up that kiss ever again, she's  _not_  except it's all she can think about when they're alone together and she hates it, hates that Alison still has such a hold over her even after all this time).

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Emily knows that Alison doesn't apologize easily, but then she can't help wondering if she's only saying it now to get Emily off her back and  _why_ does Alison have to make her doubt  _every_ little thing? "I know it was wrong, but I… had to do something."

"And you couldn't have asked someone else to do it? You couldn't have  _told_ us about it? You came back here and say you've changed but everything's still the same – you still don't trust us, you trust  _Noel Kahn_ more than us? After everything we've been through? After everything we've  _done_ for you?"

Her voice cracks with the weight of the emotion behind her words, and she feels tears spring up behind her eyes and hates it, blinks them back hastily because she will  _not_ cry in-front of Alison, not like this.

"Emily I… Noel and I have  _history_ , okay? It's complic - "

"Because you and I don't?" She feels her heart shatter and break inside her chest, and really, what had she been expecting? She's stupid and too trusting and so  _naïve_ when it comes to Alison, and she always was and Alison makes her feel fifteen years old with just a single glance and still, she loves her.

She loves her and it  _hurts_ , and she wishes she could reach into her chest and claw out her heart because she can't  _deal_ with it, with any of this, she never  _asked_ for it, never wanted to fall in love with a woman who would never love her back, who would only play with her emotions to keep her close, and shatter her heart into a million pieces just for fun.

And she just needs to get  _out_ of there, all of a sudden, can't stand to look at this woman that she loves in spite of it all, can't stand to let Alison see her cry because the tears start to fall, and she wipes them away with the back of her hand as she turns on her heel and heads out of the door.

"Emily! Wait - " Alison calls for her, Alison reaches for her, fingers scrabbling at Emily's wrist, but she yanks her arm away and practically runs down the stairs until she's slamming the front door behind her and sliding into her car, and then she doesn't know where to go because she's a  _mess_ and she can't go home looking like this.

In the end it's an easy decision, because there's one person who's just as much of a mess as she is, right now, life turned upside down by Alison's return, and she pulls into Hanna's drive and knocks on the door and is relieved when the blonde opens the door.

And she looks as bad as Emily feels, her hair tangled and messy and there are red circles around her eyes and she's clearly been crying, and she  _stinks_ of alcohol – it permeates the air between them as she appraises Emily as she stands in the doorway.

"You look like shit," is all she says as she steps aside and beckons her inside.

"So do you." Hanna merely shrugs, leading the brunette up to her room without another word – it's dark inside, the lights switched off and the drapes drawn, and she clambers into the bed and then pats the space next to her, and Emily follows her without protest.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Do you?" She counters, and Hanna's lips quirk upwards into a wry smile before she reaches over the side of the bed, and when she reappears there's bottle of whiskey in her hand, half-empty, and Emily knows that, considering everything, she should be the responsible friend and take it away, because Hanna's spiralling out of control and Emily shouldn't enable her.

But fuck being responsible, because where has that gotten her so far? Heartbroken and feeling desperately alone?

So when Hanna hands stretches her arm towards her, handing her the bottle, instead of shaking her head like she knows she should, she takes it instead and unscrews the lid, pressing it to her lips and taking a gulp of the dark liquid within – she coughs when it slides down the back of her throat because it stings, and Hanna laughs at the expression of distaste on her face as she grabs the bottle and takes her own sip.

Emily's phone rings, and she glances at the caller ID and sees that it's Alison and snatches the bottle back, takes another drink, and Hanna notices the name but doesn't say a word – instead she throws her a sympathetic smile and wraps an arm around her back and it's only then that Emily starts to feel a little better.

x-x-x

She waits for Alison in her room.

She knows where the spare key is, had snuck into the house earlier that evening and just… waited. It had gotten dark around her, the sun setting and dusk settling in, but she hadn't moved from the centre of the blonde's bed, where still she sits cross-legged with the photos spread out around her, her evidence of Alison's betrayal.

She can't stop herself from looking at them, and it feels like a stab to the heart each and every time she does, and she  _hates_ it, hates that she's jealous because she has no right, she has no claim to Alison DiLaurentis and she clearly never had, and she probably never will.

And yet she can't stop the pain that floods her chest every time her eyes land on the picture in-front of her, the one where Noel's hands are on Alison's waist, and Alison's are on his shoulders, and they're kissing.

She remembers seeing it for the first time, pulling it out of that damn envelope and she hates A most of all, in all of this, for orchestrating her finding them, for knowing that seeing them would hurt her far worse than anything else A had ever done to her in the past.

When the front door finally, finally opens she starts to regret coming over here in the first place – she's avoided Ali since she'd left this room the other night, had skipped two days of school with Hanna before Spencer had quite literally dragged the two of them out of the house that morning, and she'd done well at being everywhere that Ali wasn't, with Hanna's (unquestioning) help.

And then she'd found the pictures, and she'd been so…  _mad_. Hot, seething  _fury_ that had slid through her veins and made her hands shake, because how  _dare_ Alison have kissed her back, how  _dare_ she let Emily believe that a single thing had changed, when she was off making out with Noel Kahn when Emily wasn't looking?

And that had led her to this room, and she feels cold dread settling in her stomach when she hears the sound of footsteps on the stairs but it's too late, she's gone too far, and there's no way she can get out of this now, so she straightens her spine and she waits.

It doesn't take long – Alison heads straight for her room, flicks on the light, and jumps back in shock when she sees Emily sitting on her bed, bag slipping from her hand and its contents spilling out across the floor.

"Emily, y-you scared me." She shuts the door behind her, and it's only then that she notices the photographs on the bed, and her face visible pales. "Where… where did you get those?"

"A sent them to me." She leans forward and grabs the centre one, the one of Alison and Noel that she can't seem to tear her gaze away from for too long in spite of how much it hurts her, curls her shaking fingers around it and tries not to crush it (because she wants to, she wants to crush that and the both of them, too), and thrusts it towards Alison. "But this one. This one's my favourite."

"Emily…"

"No, take it. Really  _look_ at it." Her voice is cold and emotionless, and she sounds…  _empty_ and this is what Alison's done to her and she wants her to  _know_ that. Alison's fingers tremble as they reach to take the photo, and she glances down at it and a shadow of regret crosses her face before her eyes flicker back up to meet brown.

"Emily I… I don't know what to say."

"How about the  _truth_ for once in your fucking life?" She snaps, and Alison flinches, and instead of feeling gratified by it she's sickened, sickened by herself and her jealousy and the fact that she'd been stupid enough to believe that she ever meant  _anything_ to Alison. "Was it all just… a  _game_ to you? Do you get off on messing me around? God, I can't believe I actually thought… Did I ever mean a damn  _thing_ to you?"

"How can you ask me that?" Alison sounds appalled, but Emily doesn't know how to  _believe_ it. "Em, of course you - "

"Don't fucking  _touch_  me," she hisses when Alison reaches for her, and she scrambles backwards until she's standing on the opposite side of the bed, and she glares at Alison across it and she wears her heartbreak on her face and tears slip from her eyes and still, still she loves her.

She loves her and wishes she could hate her.

"This," Alison brandishes the photo and then scrunches it up in her hand and throws it away, and there's a blazing anger in her eyes now, too, and they shine a luminescent blue in the semi-darkness. "Doesn't mean  _anything_. But you do. You mean  _everything_ to me."

"Stop  _lying_." And she's pleading now, because she can't hear this, she can't hear words like that because it makes her heart ache, and it's too shattered and too shredded and she can't  _take_ any more of this, can't take any more of Alison, because she's going to destroy her and Emily's going to let her.

"I'm not lying. Yes, I kissed him – is that what you want to hear? Because I did. More than once." Her words are etched with frustration and it stings, and Emily feels the tears gathering behind her eyes, can imagine all too easily Alison's lips on his, his hands all over her and god, it makes her feel sick to her stomach but she can't wipe the thoughts away. "But you were… you were lost to me, you were with Maya and then Paige and do you think that it didn't hurt me, too? To see you with them? With them and… happy in a way that I knew I could never make you?"

"Don't make this my fault." She feels leaden, wants to sink to the floor and never get up again, but she can't, she needs to be strong and she's an  _idiot_ for thinking it was a good idea to come over here. "I thought you were  _dead_. You let me think that you were  _dead_  for two years and it destroyed me and then you just waltz back into our lives like nothing's  _changed_?"

"Because you asked me to!" Alison practically yells, and there are tears behind her eyes now, too, but Emily doesn't know if they're real or fake and she can't bear to  _think_ anymore because it hurts, it hurts so much, and she hates that Alison is so guarded, because how can she ever know what she's  _thinking_?

"Because I  _love_ you!" It tears from her throat, and her voice is raw with emotion because she's been ripped open by Alison, ripped open and left for dead, because she doesn't know how to repair the cracks that the last few weeks have put in her. "Because I love you and I couldn't… I couldn't lose you again. But now I wonder if I already have."

Alison just looks at her with sadness in her eyes and Emily feels more tears start to fall but doesn't bother to wipe them away, because she wants Alison to see – she wants Alison to know what she does to her, how she wrecks her and ruins her and tears her to pieces, she wants her to look at her and  _know_ because she's sick of hiding, sick of pretending that none of it matters so long as she has Alison because it  _does_ matter.

When her phone rings she wants to ignore it but she knows that she shouldn't, and when she sees it's Hanna she sighs, because she knows that, after spending the last few days together, the blonde won't give up until she reaches her and finds out that she's okay.

Because Hanna knows, now, she knows everything (apart from the photos, Emily hadn't told anyone about them), and Emily knows about her creepy boss and she'd yelled at him for it yesterday, had gotten herself fired over it, but she doesn't care because at least now everyone who had been in the shop that day knew what an asshole he was, and Aria was furious with her  _and_ Hanna now, but… it'd all be worth it, in the end, if it meant that her Mom didn't end up marrying him.

"Hey," she answers before the call goes to voicemail, and she regrets not taking more time to gather herself because she sounds  _awful_.

 _"You're crying_ ," Hanna says immediately, concern colouring her voice.  _"What's wrong? Do you need me to come over? Do I need to kick Spencer's butt for dragging us into school today?_ "

"No, I… I'm fine."

 _"You're not fucking fine, Emily, don't lie to me. What's up? Is it Alison?"_ Hanna's made her dislike and distrust of Alison perfectly clear when they'd been alone and very drunk together, and really, Emily can't blame her – it had been Hanna that, out of the four of them, had suffered the most at Alison's hands, after all.

Hanna had very gently reminded her that no, it had been Emily who had it the worst, when the brunette had brought it up, and she'd gone quiet for a very long time after that, until Hanna had realized her mistake and very tactfully changed the subject.

"No."

_"I just told you not to lie to me! What's she done now?"_

"Nothing Han, look, I - "

_"Are you at her place now?"_

"Maybe?"

 _"Emily,_ " Hanna groans in frustration, because she'd been the one to suggest that she stay away from Alison and Hanna would stay away from Caleb, because the two of them were probably the unhealthiest thing for them right now.  _"I thought we agreed."_

"Technically I never did," she points out, and she's kind of forgotten that Alison's in the room and it's a little easier to breathe. "And I  _saw_ you talking to Caleb after school today, so - "

 _"That wasn't my fault! He sought me out, I couldn't escape_." She hears the blonde sigh, heavily.  _"Look, she's not good for you right now, Em, okay?"_

"You think I don't know that?"

 _"Do you?"_ She looks at Alison then, sees the way she's sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at the photographs, sees the exhaustion written all over her face and she  _knows_ , she  _knows_ that they're a disaster, that she shouldn't be here because she can't  _think_ straight around Alison and it's… dangerous. " _Crap, my Mom's calling me for dinner, I have to go. Please don't do anything stupid?"_

"That's kind of my thing, though, when we're together." And it is, it always had been – she'd been the one to kiss her for the first time on that dusty library floor, and she'd been the one to kiss her again the other night in this very room, she'd been the one to confuse things even more and she has no-one to blame for any of this but her own damn self.

" _Well in that case… I'll be at home, if you need me, later."_

"With whiskey?"

 _"Vodka, actually, we drank all the whiskey. Now I really do have to go – please call me, if you need me._ "

"I will, I promise." When she hangs up and slips her phone back into her pocket, Alison is watching her with steely blue eyes.

"You shouldn't be encouraging her. She has a problem."

"Yeah, well, sometimes I need to drink to get you out of my head, and she's the only one who understands that, so… at least we can drink ourselves into an early grave together."

"Don't  _talk_ like that."

"Why not? Because you have to pretend like you care?" Alison glares at her and she stares right back, and she's so  _tired_ , and she shouldn't have come here, she should have listened to Hanna and stayed far away, and she'd been stupid to think that coming over her with the pictures had been a good idea, because she feels even worse than she did before – and she hadn't even thought that possible.

"I'm not pretending  _anything_. I do care about you."

"You have a funny way of showing it. You say that you meant what you said outside of that barn, you make me think that I mean something to you, spend the night kissing me and then never bring it up again, and then go and kiss someone else?"

"I told you, that was - "

"In the past, yeah, yeah. I don't know how to believe that, though, when Noel is clearly still your go-to boy. You clearly trust him more than you trust me, because to trust me that would mean you actually had to  _tell_ me things and god forbid you do  _that_."

Alison looks hurt and she feels vindicated even as she despises herself because she shouldn't take  _pleasure_ in that, in hurting the woman that she loves, and she just… really needs to get out of there. Again. She's halfway to the door when Alison grabs her wrist, just like last time, but this time Emily can't shake her off, and she's slammed back against the wall beside the door and she's frozen in place by the fury in Alison's eyes.

"Don't you  _dare_ walk away from me again! Stop taking the easy way out, stop  _complaining_ about me not trusting you or not explaining anything to you when you never give me a fucking  _chance_ to!" It's probably the first time she's ever heard Alison swear at her, because they've never argued before, not like this, because Emily had never dared to.

And Alison's hands shake as they pin Emily down, and she can feel the heat from Alison's body against her own and god, she wants to kiss her, she wants to kiss her until there's nothing else left in the world but her, and she hates herself for it, for not being strong enough to think about something (anything) else.

"I don't trust him more than you. I don't trust  _anyone_ more than you. But I don't want to burden you with some of things… some of things that I've done… you were always so sweet and so gentle and I couldn't… I could never tell you about some of things I had to do to survive. I could never ask you to do some of things that I've asked from Noel. He's my friend and I know he'd do anything for me - "

" _I'd_ do anything for you." It's a broken whisper; she's broken, she's been broken for a long time, the wounds from Alison's disappearance had never truly healed and they've been torn open anew and she doesn't know how to  _fix_  them.

"I  _know_  you would. But I can't  _ask_ you to, don't you understand that? After all the things I've done to you, after all the times I broke your heart, after all the times I told you I didn't want you when I did, I… I could never ask anything of you ever again."

"You ask me to do things all the time. You ask to stay over at my place, you ask me to stay over at yours. You ask me to walk you home. You ask me - "

"Because I'm  _selfish_. I'm selfish and I  _want_ you and I know that if I ask you you'll say yes and that's… messed up, I know it is, but you avoided me for so long after I came back and I just… I wanted to spend time with you. And the things Noel's done… the things he's done for me, I could never ask that of you. I care about you too much."

"But you were still with him. You were with him and not me. You chose  _him_ , instead of me. You could've stayed, you never had to leave. You could've told us about A – you could've told  _me_ about A – and we would've  _helped_ you. But instead you left me behind and you never once looked back and you only ever look out for yourself and I don't know how to believe that you ever gave a shit about me."

Once she starts talking she doesn't really know how to stop, and every doubt she's been keeping inside since Alison came back comes spilling out, and Alison is right  _there_ , looking at her with sad, sad eyes, and she's not even surprised when Alison kisses her, because that's what she's always done when she gets scared that Emily is pulling away.

She kisses her and it keeps Emily coming back.

And she hates the way that she kisses her back, instead of pushing her away, and it's desperate, and Alison clutches at her like she'll never be able to get close enough. She hates the way her hands grab for Alison's hips instead of reaching for her shoulders to shove her back, and she drags her closer instead as her lips part for Alison's tongue, but most of all, most of all she hates the way that Alison kisses her, like she  _matters_.

Because she can't help but think that she doesn't, as her nails dig into Alison's flesh hard enough to leave half-moon marks on her skin (and she wants to, she wants to leave a mark on her, because god knows Alison has left a lifetime's worth of scars on her), and when the blonde moans into her mouth it sends a bolt of heat between her legs and she  _hates_ it, hates that Alison can turn her on even when she's so mad that she just wants to scream, when there's still a seething fury running like fire through her veins.

And yet still, still, she can't bring herself to hate Alison.

She puts a stop to it eventually – when their lips are bruised and her head is hazy and all she can hear in her ears is the sound of Alison moaning – pushing her away and then whirling towards the door, running a shaking hand through her hair because she can't… she can't  _do_ this anymore, this back and forth and never knowing where she stands, and she'd been too scared before to stand  _up_ for herself, to give Alison an ultimatum, too terrified that she'd lose her for good.

But she thinks, as Alison stares at her with flushed cheeks, her lipstick smudged and her hair mussed from Emily's hands, that nothing can hurt her more than this – nothing can be worse than being in this limbo where Alison kisses her when  _she_  wants and won't  _talk_  to her about anything and she's just… she's so  _tired_.

"You can't just kiss me and think that it'll make everything better." There's venom in her words because she's angry, angry at herself for losing control and angry at Alison for making her, and she stands in the doorway and her hands shake and she has to look away from Alison's eyes, focuses on the floor instead. "I'm not some kind of… plaything, for you to mess around with when you feel like and drop when you don't. And when you actually want to have a  _conversation_ about… us, about whatever the fuck we're doing, then you know where to find me, but until then? Just… stay away from me.  _Please._ "

She doesn't wait for Alison's answer, can't bear to hear what she might have to say because she's terrified that it might be enough to make her stay, and she needs some space, she needs… she needs to go to Hanna's and get herself wasted and that's probably the unhealthiest thing that she could possibly do but she needs  _something_ to help her get out of her own head, to be able to stop thinking about Alison fucking DiLaurentis for even just a few seconds before she drives herself  _crazy_.

So she walks out of the door and she doesn't look back.


	2. Chapter Two

“You should be warned,” Hanna says emphatically, a slight slur to her words as she lies back on her bed, and Emily watches her from the chair at her desk with an amused smile. “’Don’t fall in love, ever, because you’ll regret it for the rest of your life’.”

“At least Caleb hasn’t been lying to you for the entirety of your non-relationship,” Emily points out, taking another swig from the hip flask in her hand, and the ache in her chest from arguing with Alison still hasn’t been assuaged, even though her head is fuzzy and the room is starting to spin.

“I guess.” Hanna lets out a heavy sigh before rolling onto her front and propping her head up on the palm of one of her hands. “But he hasn’t told me anything about what happened in Ravenswood. Maybe he met someone else over there.”

“He’d be an idiot to choose someone else over you,” she says honestly, and Hanna smiles softly at her and she wishes, for a second, that she could have fallen in love with Hanna instead of Alison, Hanna who is sweet and kind and who would never hurt her like Alison did, with her acerbic words and taunting laugh.

But maybe she’s just a masochist, maybe a part of the reason she loves Alison so much – with the kind of all-consuming want that she’s never felt for anyone else, not even Paige or Maya and she’d loved them with all her heart – is because of who she is. Maybe she just wants what she can never truly have, and maybe she’s doomed to love Alison until the day she dies.

“Life would be so much easier if I was into girls,” Hanna says with a sigh, reflecting Emily’s earlier thoughts and the brunette laughs. “You and I could be the Rosewood High power couple.”

“In another life, maybe.”

“Alison doesn’t deserve you, you know,” Hanna says then, earnestly, but Emily can't find it within herself to agree – she remembers moments, snapshots, really, when she’d been with Alison and the blonde had been genuine, and thinks that, regardless of the pain she’s feeling now, she wouldn’t give those moments up for the world. “I hope you know that. You deserve better.”

“Someone like you?” Emily teases, and Hanna throws her a lopsided grin, and Emily takes another drink from her flask. “Have you spoken to Aria today?” She asks, changing the subject because she doesn’t want to end up doing something stupid like accidentally end up making out with Hanna – they’ve done if before, once or twice, in the distant past, when they’d both been too drunk for their own good and Hanna had reminded her of Alison so much that it hurt to breathe, and she hated herself for using the blonde like that, and she knew that Hanna knew what Emily was thinking and wondered why she’d let her do it in the first place.

“Nope, she still hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Hanna!” The sound of the blonde’s Mom’s voice cuts their conversation short, and they hear the sound of footsteps padding up the stairs – Emily is quick to hide her flask in her bag, and Hanna buries the bottle of vodka she’s been drinking from under her covers, but Emily knows that they won’t fool anyone, are both far too drunk to even pretend to act sober. “Spencer’s here.”

“Oh, crap,” Hanna breathes, but then her bedroom door’s opening and Spencer’s breezing through, and she takes in the sight of the two of them and heaves out a heavy sigh, shutting the door behind her with a shake of her head.

“It was bad enough when _one_ of you was developing an alcohol problem, but the two of you? What has gotten _in_ to you?”

“Well, Zach tried to,” Hanna points out and Emily snickers even though the thought of that creep makes her sick to her stomach, and Spencer rolls her eyes in exasperation, moving to perch on the edge of the blonde’s bed – she ends up sitting on the bottle of vodka and pulls it out from under the covers with a huff.

“You really need to stop, Han.”

“Emily’s got a flask!” The blonde accuses, and Emily narrows her eyes at the blonde because where was her sense of solidarity?

“Hand it over,” Spencer says, extending her hand towards the brunette, and Emily sighs before reaching into her bag and passing it towards Spencer, who slips it into her own bag. “Okay, now, do we want to spill why we’re drinking ourselves off the face of the earth? Emily?”

“Why are you even here?” Hanna asks as she pushes herself up so that she’s sitting against the headboard, her legs curled underneath her.

“Alison called me.” Emily tries to keep her expression carefully blank at the mention of the blonde’s name, because Spencer’s eyes are glued to her face, and she doesn’t want the brunette to know involved she’s gotten with Alison since she came back, because she knows exactly what she’ll say – ‘you should’ve been more careful’. “She said that you’d probably be over here, and you’d probably be in a bad way. You guys know anything about why she might have said that?”

“When do any of us have any idea what Alison’s thinking?” Hanna mutters darkly, but Spencer ignores her, eyes still fixed firmly on Emily, who squirms under the brunette’s intense stare.

“And would you know anything about why she was crying when she was on the phone with me?” Emily’s heart breaks at the thought of Alison crying alone in her bedroom (her fault, all her fault), when she has Hanna and now Spencer here with her – and then Hanna’s eyes are on her face, and she’s shaking her head vehemently.

“No, Emily, don’t you dare feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not.”

“I can _see_ it on your face, _don’t_. She deserves it.”

“I don’t think anyone really deserves to - ”

“ _She_ does,” Hanna insists, and Spencer just watches the two of them like she’s at a tennis match, her head swinging one way then the other. “She broke your heart again and you’re _still_ on her side, Em, she’s bad news, why can’t you _see_ that?”

“Because I love her.” It comes out in a broken whisper and she feels the hot sting of more tears behind her eyes and she’d been so _good_ , she hadn't cried since she’d left Alison’s house, had pulled herself together before she’d gotten to Hanna’s but more tears come spilling out now, and Spencer is by her side in a second, taking her hand and pulling her over to the bed, and Spencer sits on one side and Hanna on the other and they just wrap their arms around her and she sobs into Hanna’s shirt while the blonde rambles drunkenly about nothing in particular.

“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?” Spencer pleads when Emily’s eyes are dry, and Emily can see the concern in Spencer’s eyes, knows that she can’t hide things from her anymore – so she spills her story for the second time that week, and she tells them both about the photos, too, because they deserve to know everything that she’s found out.

“Who else was in them?” Spencer asks almost as soon as she’s finished, and Hanna shoots the brunette a glare over Emily’s head. “What?”

“Insensitive, much?”

“No, it’s fine,” Emily says, and she tries to force her hazy brain to concentrate, to remember what had been on the photos that _weren’t_ of Alison and Noel. “There weren’t many. Just of her out and about.”

“And A sent them to you?”

“They made sure I found them, yeah.”

“But why?”

“If we’re gonna try and figure out A’s motivations then I’m gonna need my vodka back,” Hanna mutters and Spencer rolls her eyes.

“Somehow I don’t think that’ll help.” Emily has to agree – she’s starting to feel sick now that she’s stopped drinking, is wondering how bad her hangover is going to be in the morning. “Does Ali still have them?”

“I don’t know. I left them there. She’s probably thrown them all out by now.”

“Okay well I’m gonna go over and get them. And then tomorrow I’m going to corner Noel and ask him what the hell he was doing with Alison and why he’s been helping her.”

“It’s because they have _history_ ,” Emily says bitterly, and she thinks of his hands over Alison’s body once again and has to swallow back the bile that claws up her throat, and Hanna’s arm, wrapped around her lower back, squeezes gently. “And why would he help you, anyway?”

“Because him being on those photos proves that he knew Alison was alive this whole time and was helping keeping her hidden,” Spencer points out, and the smile that curves around is wicked, excited about the prospect of finally getting some answers. “And I’m sure he won't want the police to know about that. So he’ll help us – whether it’ll be the truth or not, well… I guess we’ll just have to see what he says.”

x-x-x

She wakes up the next morning in Hanna’s bed with a pounding headache and groans, burrowing further into the covers because the alarm _hurts_ her ears, but the sheets are ripped from her body a moment later, and she glares up at Spencer who just looks down at both her and Hanna with a stern expression on her face, hands on her hips.

“Up. Now.”

“Spenceeee,” Hanna whines from Emily’s side, and the brunette has to agree with the sentiment because she doesn’t _want_ to move from this nice and comfy bed and go to the hellhole she calls school, where she’s bound to run into Alison.

“ _Up_ ,” Spencer orders again, and Hanna mutters something derogatory under her breath that Spencer doesn’t hear but Emily does, and the brunette chokes on a laugh.

Spencer had gone home last night only to reappear again a while later, informing the both of them that she wasn’t leaving them alone ‘to drink their sorrows away’ and was staying the night, thereby ensuring that they also wouldn’t miss any more school.

She’d also reappeared with an envelope and Emily hadn't asked even though she’d wanted to, hadn't asked how Alison was, what kind of shape the blonde was in when Spencer had gone over to get the photos, but she’d wanted to, and she’d wanted to drink, too, but Spencer had put a stop to that as well.

And Emily knows that the brunette is just trying to help, but… she kind of wants to self-destruct, let herself fall apart completely before she starts to put herself back together again, because maybe then she’d feel better, feel something other than this constant pain in her chest that tells her that everything’s the same as two years ago and she’s in love with a woman that will never ever be hers.

They get ready for school in relative silence, and Emily winces when she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror in the bathroom – her eyes are bloodshot and there a dark circles underneath from where she hadn't been able to sleep much (she’d spent most of the night awake, haunted by Alison’s face and Alison’s words and Alison kissing Noel and god, she wants to rip out her brain and claw out her eyes so that she never ever has to see that again), and her hair is a tangled mess that takes her almost ten minutes to sort into something semi-presentable.

She has one class with Alison, one unavoidable hour with her, but the rest of the day she can just focus on not accidentally running into her. When Spencer pulls into a space in the parking lot Emily sees a flash of blonde hair waiting by the door and almost refuses to get out of the car – and then the girl moves and she sees that it’s not Alison at all, and breathes out a sigh of relief even as she’s shaking her head at her herself, and Hanna is shooting her a sympathetic look and squeezing her hand gently and suddenly she just really wants to be alone for a little while.

She’s ridiculously early for her first class, escaping from Hanna and Spencer with a mutter about how she wasn’t taking any chances about seeing Alison, and it’s kind of nice, to sit on her own in the empty classroom and she stares out of the window and tries not to wallow in self-pity.

When her phone buzzes as the room starts to fill up around her she assumes that it’s Hanna or Spencer checking up on her – but when she glances at the screen and sees that it’s from an unknown number her heart stutters and she holds her breath as she opens it.

_Did you enjoy those pictures? I know I did. –A_

She wants to crush her phone into a million tiny pieces; her hands shake so bad that it clatters down onto the table, and before she can get herself under control the teacher stands up at the front of the room and starts the class, and she wishes that she’d never gotten out of bed that morning.

She can barely concentrate on a thing all day, is desperate for a drink even though she _knows_ she shouldn’t, but she craves it, the oblivion that it can create if she drinks enough, because she’s no stranger to using alcohol to drown her problems.

Most of the summer after Alison had disappeared had been a blur. It had just gotten too much, after those first few torturous days – having to wait, hoping and praying that she’d turn up unscathed, before they could file a missing persons’ report, and then those days had stretched into weeks and Alison had been nowhere to be found and people started to throw around the word ‘dead’ and ‘murdered’ and she just… couldn’t deal with it.

She couldn’t deal with the thought that she’d never see Alison again; she’d never be able to tell her how she truly felt (her letter long gone – she wonders if things would be different, now that Alison’s back, if she would’ve read it before she went missing), never be able to kiss her again, had lost her first love in a twist of fate crueller than the way that Alison had played with her feelings and humiliated her.

She’d scared her parents to death but they’d known how hard it was, hadn't questioned her about the fact that she spent a lot of time alone in her room (where she cried and she cried and she cried, holding old photographs of her and Alison in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other), the fact that her friends slipped away until she was on her own.

Aria went to Iceland and Hanna found Mona and Spencer focused on school until she was the best that she could be, and Emily threw herself into swimming in the hope that it would be enough to drown the memory of Alison but it never was.

Nothing had been enough; she wonders if Alison will always be there in her mind, just below the surface, taunting her, wonders if she’ll ever be able to escape her.

And she’d lost Maya, too, snatched away from her just when she’d started to think that they were going to be okay, and she barely remembers that summer, either. It had been good to get out town, to work until her fingers bled and to feel like she’d been doing something _good_ with herself, but it didn’t… It didn’t get rid of the ache in her chest, the cracks in her heart from Alison and from Maya hadn't healed, and she thinks that maybe they never did because she can still feel them there now.

She doesn’t know how she makes it through her first three periods, but she does – it’s the fourth that she has with Alison, and she wants to skip it, is very, very tempted, but then Spencer is there with a stern look on her face, seizes her wrist and drags her into the room, and she supposes that at least it isn’t just her and Alison, and Spencer can be a buffer.

The blonde slips through the door two seconds before the final bell rings and sits as far away from Emily as she possibly can, but not before Emily catches a glimpse of her face and feels guilt churning in her stomach because she looks awful, worse than Emily _feels_ , and that can only be her fault.

And she tries to remind herself that she’s not to blame, that it’s Alison who refuses to be honest with her, who doesn’t trust her, but the blonde’s voice rings in her ears ‘ _you won't even give me a chance to explain myself’_ and she wonders if she’d been too quick to walk away.

She spends pretty much the whole class staring at the back of Alison’s head, half of her wanting her to turn around and the other half dreading if she does, because she can stay away (maybe), like this, when Alison is far away, but up close she’s not sure she’s strong enough and she needs to start to put herself back together before she can bear to face Alison again.

Lunch is spent in the library, with Spencer texting her every five seconds to try and arrange a time for them to ambush Noel, because apparently Emily has to be present for _that_ sure-to-be-awkward conversation, and when they eventually decide on where and when to do it Emily’s not sure if she should be looking forward to getting some answers or fearful for what they might find out.

But she meets Spencer in the parking lot after school all the same, a few steps away from Noel’s car, and when they see him approach they inch slightly closer – when he unlocks the door and slides inside, so do they, Spencer into the passenger seat and Emily into the back, and the look of surprise on his face would have been amusing if it hadn't the next second been replaced by a scowl, and Emily wonders if this is really such a good idea after all because really, what do they know about Noel?

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, actually.” Spencer wastes no time in pulling out the envelope, and Emily’s eyes are on Noel’s face as Spencer pulls out the photos and flips through them quickly, sees the way his widen slightly in surprise.

“Where did you get these?”

“That’s not important,” Spencer says, and Emily watches anger ripple across Noel’s face at being ignored and all she can think is that they really should have done this somewhere more open. “What’s important is what were you doing with Alison here?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious what I was doing with her,” he replies, and Emily wants to punch the smirk off his face so badly that her hand actually shakes. His eyes flicker over to her and his smirk widens. “Are you jealous?”

“Of you?” She says through gritted teeth, and she hates the way he looks at her, almost _pitying_ , and she wants to scream. “Not likely.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about me – she was always way more into it than I was.”

“Anyway,” Spencer interjects hastily, forcing Noel’s gaze back to her as Emily tries to get herself under control because she just really, really wants to _hurt_ him. “That’s not what I meant. What were you doing there?”

“Not until you tell me where you got them.”

“I found them,” Emily says with a shrug because _technically_ that’s true.

“You found them?” Noel says sceptically, shaking his head. “What, in my car?”

“What?” Spencer and Emily both ask at the same time, and when Noel leans forward to the glove compartment Emily tenses, wondering what he’s doing, prepared for anything – what she doesn’t expect, though, is for him to pull out a practically identical envelope, and when he opens the seal it’s to show them the same photos that they have, and Emily is more confused than ever.

“Smart move, making copies,” he mutters, almost to himself, and Emily and Spencer exchange a look when he’s glancing away and when Spencer mouths ‘play along’ she can only nod. “Do you have a copy of the tapes, too?”

“We figured that was our best insurance policy,” Spencer murmurs convincingly. “And of course we do, we just didn’t bring it, just in-case. It’s with a friend.”

“A friend. That wouldn’t be Alison, by any chance, would it?”

“No, she doesn’t know about this. Which is why we’re here. Tell us about the photos and the tapes, now. Or we’re going to take these to the police, because I’m sure Detective Tanner would be very interested to know that you knew Alison was alive this whole time.”

“You wouldn’t throw Alison under the bus like that,” Noel says, smirk back on his face, not buying Spencer’s threat, but the brunette merely hardens her expression, raising a daring eyebrow.

“Try me. Because in-case you haven’t noticed, Alison isn’t in our good books right now, and I have no doubt that she’d hand us over in a heartbeat to save her own ass. So you talk, now, or the both of you are going down. How do you think you’d fare in prison, Noel? Because I don’t think you’d do so well.”

They size each other up for a moment and Emily can only watch, transfixed, and so, so glad that she doesn’t have to do any of the talking because she is nowhere near as intimidating and commanding as Spencer, and Emily swears she can see respect swimming in Noel’s sea blue eyes.

As she waits with bated breath for him to speak, her eyes gaze wanders to the outside world, having sort of forgotten that they’re in the middle of the Rosewood High parking lot – and her eyes find Alison, and she swears she’s drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

The blonde is staring towards them with a mixture of emotions on her face, and Emily can see shock and confusion and worry and sadness and she wonders what Alison thinks of them doing this, wants to know what’s on her mind (she always wants to know what’s on her mind), but when Noel speaks she forces her gaze away and back to him.

“Fine. I had these pictures taken. I hired a PI to follow me when I met up with Alison and take these.”

“Why?”

“Insurance,” he says simply, with a shrug. “Alison has a habit of using people and throwing them away, I’m sure you’ve noticed that. At first I helped her because I thought she was kind of hot and that I might have a chance if I was sweet to her, but when she turned into a crazy bitch I wanted out – only she wouldn’t let me.”

“She has something on you,” Spencer murmurs, and Emily can practically see the puzzle pieces clicking into place in her head. “She’s blackmailing you.”

“You really think I’d do stupid shit like break into someone’s house for her if she didn’t? I’m not an idiot, Spencer. I’ve done some fucked up things for her and it’s only because I didn’t have a choice. But these,” he waves the envelope in-front of him and Emily can’t help but looking for Alison, sees the way her face pales when she notices what he’s holding. “These are my way out from under that bitch’s thumb.”

“But if you send these to the police then you’ll go down to,” Spencer points out but he’s shaking his head before she can finish.

“I wasn’t sending all of these to the cops. No, there’s a reason why I made sure there was specifically a photo of her and me kissing. I was going to threaten to show them to you.” His eyes find Emily’s again, and that mocking smirk is back. “She’s real sweet on you, you know. I figure she’d want to stop you from seeing who she truly is and turning your back on her.”

Emily forces her expression to remain blank, to not think about what he’s saying – _suggesting_ – because if she thinks any more about the possibility of Alison DiLaurentis actually having feelings for her she’s not sure she can survive.

“But the others?” He turns back to Spencer when he realizes Emily’s not going to rise up to the bait. “The ones without me on? They were my plan B, but I guess they’re my plan A now. You tell Alison that if she tries to force me to do anything ever again, if she ever so much as _looks_ at me again, then these will find their way onto Detective Tanner’s desk and all five of you can go down together.”

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of what will hopefully be several flashbacks throughout this story occurs in this chapter, and I'm going to put them all in italics just for ease. This is also the first chapter in Alison's POV.
> 
> The next update my by slightly slower as I'm out of the country for a week without my laptop so can't get any writing done, but hopefully it won't take me too long.

She used to love being alone.

She used to crave it, would love it whenever her Dad was at work and her Mom went out and Jason was… wherever the hell Jason went when he wasn’t home, and she could just… _be_. It had been nice, to get away from the constant attention at school, everyone’s eyes on her all the time (and she’d wanted that, she _had_ , it was just a _lot_ ).

But now she hates it.

It reminds her too much of two years of loneliness, without human contact but aching for it, without friends or family (apart from those brief glimpses she caught from afar, whenever the danger of coming back to town had been overridden by the need to see those that she cared about, because after that first time, when she’d gone to see Hanna, she hadn't been able to stay away).

She still remembers the first time she’d seen Emily since that awful night, since she’d gone and disappeared and not looked back (except she had, she had all the time, she’d lived in the past, in the memory of the way Emily smelled and the way she laughed and the way her lips felt under Alison’s and god, she’d loved her all along but she’d never been able to tell her, _still_ couldn’t tell her, and she hates herself for it)…

_She knows that it was a stupid idea to come back to town, she knows it with a certainty in her gut but it’s not a strong enough feeling to turn her away. She just needs… she needs to see her, to see what she looks like, over a year later._

_To make sure that she’s okay._

_She tugs her coat tighter around herself under the guise of being cold but really it’s just so that she’s covered up – the only part of her exposed is her face, and even half of that is hidden by the collar of her jacket, and her hair is covered by the dark wig and no-one should recognise her, everyone thinks that she’s dead but she’s always been paranoid and now is no exception._

_She waits opposite the main door of the school, and she’s being really stupid because_ anyone _could see her, leaning there against a tree trunk, and Emily might not even come_ by _this way, might be staying late for swim practice, and she should really just turn around and get the bus back to the crappy abandoned warehouse that she’s living in currently but she just… can’t._

_She tells herself that she just needs to see Emily, just once, and then she’ll turn around and leave (but a part of her wonders if she’ll be able to, if she’s strong enough for that, because she’d realized very quickly that Emily was the hardest one to leave behind, and she can't stop_ thinking _about her and she’s pretty sure it’s because she… well, maybe not loves her because she’s Alison DiLaurentis and she doesn’t know what love_ is _but she cares about her, more than she’s ever cared about anyone else ever in her entire life and she just… Emily’s always on her mind, always haunting her dreams, and she can't escape her and now she’s been back to town, taken that plunge for the first time she tells herself that once more can't hurt._

_When she sees Emily she’s sure that her heart stops beating in her chest, because she’s so, so beautiful and she always had been but she’s even more so, now, and god, Alison’s an idiot because she’d only realized what she’d had when it was gone, and Emily will never be hers and she has no-one to blame for that but herself._

_She’s so transfixed by Emily that she doesn’t notice, at first, that she’s with someone else. But as she takes in the brunette’s body (appraisingly, even though she feels like some kind of creeper, leering at her from across the street), she notices that she’s holding hands with someone and her heart stops all over again because she’s holding hands with a_ girl _, she’s smiling and laughing and joking with a_ girl _and then when they stop Emily leans down to brush a kiss against her lips and Alison’s heart shatters and breaks because that should…_

_That should be_ her _._

She’s _the one that Emily had used to look at like that, with so much love in her eyes, it had been Alison and only Alison, and she was the one who Emily had kissed, but that had been behind closed doors and never out in the open like this and she feels… she feels like she’s been suckerpunched and she’s whirling around the next second and disappearing around the next corner because she can’t… she doesn’t know how to_ deal _with what she’s seen._

_And it’s not like she hadn't ever expected Emily to move on from her, but it stings all the same. It_ more _than stings, it aches, and she feels like she can't breathe, and she has no_ right _to feel like this because she’s the one who always pushed Emily away instead of pulling her closer like she really wanted to, that’s all on her, but it hurts, to see her happy with someone else like Alison had, in another reality, dreamed that they might be._

_And she’s selfish for resenting Emily for that, she knows she is. But as she heads back to the bus station to leave town (and she thinks, as she walks, that she might not ever come back, because it’s too painful, it hurts too much, and if Emily can move on from her then she should be able to move on from Emily but she’s not so sure she can because she’s still there, in her mind, haunting her), she can't help the nagging thought in the back of her head, the taunting voice that screams that Emily’s already forgotten about her, when Emily is all that Alison can remember_.

She hadn't been strong enough to stay away, though, had returned to town several times – always with an excuse but also always knowing that she came because she wanted to see Emily, needed another glimpse of her just to know that she was okay.

She found out about her and Maya through Noel – when she found out that Maya had been murdered she’d wanted so desperately to go back to Rosewood, to find Emily and to _comfort_ her, but she _couldn’t_ because she’d been sure that the sight of her would’ve just broken Emily even more.

Because just like she’d said last night, Alison had left town – left Emily behind – and even though it’s the hardest thing that she’d ever had to do she’d still _done_ it, had been absent for two years and she can't take any of that back, can't get that time back, has wasted countless days and weeks and months that she could have had with Emily, if only she hadn't been such a _bitch_.

She’s under no illusions that her current situation isn’t entirely her own fault, because she knows it is. If she’d been a little nicer, and little kinder, then she never would’ve driven Mona to do the things that she’d done (and it’s not _all_ on her, because Mona clearly has some issues, too, but she’d been the catalyst for it all, her and her inability to feel compassion, to take pleasure in torturing people around her in order to feel better about herself).

And without Mona’s transformation she wouldn’t have received any A texts at all, wouldn’t have been driven from town (wouldn’t nearly have had her skull cracked open, wouldn’t have been buried alive – sometimes, in her dreams, she’s in that grave again, swallowing dirt and she’s _suffocating_ and there’s no better way to hurt Alison than to strangle her and make her feel like that again, and she hates that A knows that – by her own mother, protecting a person whose identity she can't even begin to guess), wouldn’t have had her life ruined and wouldn’t have brought her four friends down with her.

That’s her biggest regret – that they had to suffer, too. Because Alison deserved it all, she’d been a bitch and a monster and she’s a bad person, but the four of them? They were nothing like her, deserved none of this, but because she’d chosen to surround herself with them they were tainted, tainted by her influence, and now they’ve been ruined, too – all because of her.

But it’s too late to change the past (much as she might wish to – and she does, it consumes her, she lies awake at night thinking about what she would have done differently, if she had the chance, and it’s really no surprise to her that most of them are to do with Emily, because she is her biggest regret, the way she treated her when they were younger, the way she’d made her feel ashamed of her sexuality and the way she felt about Alison when she should have embraced it), she knows that – but it doesn’t stop her from agonizing over it in her every waking moment.

She agonizes over last night, too – has been ever since Emily had stormed away from her and left her, alone and devastated, in her room with nothing but those damned pictures for company. She’d called Spencer because she couldn’t bear the thought of Emily doing something stupid because she was drunk, had needed to know that she was okay, and as soon as she’d known that she allowed herself her own breakdown.

She didn’t drink, even though she wanted to. She wanted to drown herself in a bottle of vodka, drink until it stopped burning the back of her throat, drink until she couldn’t even remember Emily’s face, the agony etched into it as she’d walked away, let alone all the horrible things that she’s done to her.

Instead she’d cried until she couldn’t breathe, allowed herself a single night to fall apart before she’d put the pieces of her shattered heart and soul back together, because she was Alison DiLaurentis and she didn’t show weakness, not for anybody – she had to go out and pretend that she was fine, even though she was broken, possibly beyond repair.

And school had been exhausting, because she had no-one to turn to. Aria wasn’t talking to the others (not that she’d tell Alison _why_ ), but it became obvious to her soon enough that the brunette was uncomfortable with it just being the two of them and had spared her for the rest of the day after they’d gone their separate ways for first period, spending her lunch hour hiding in a classroom and trying to forget the way that Emily’s eyes had bored into her back during the single class that they shared.

She was glad that at least Emily had the other girls, even it meant that Alison was on her own, because she was the one at fault, she was the one who had broken Emily’s heart yet again (however inadvertently, and she hates A for directing Emily to those photographs).

When she hears a knock on the front door it startles her, because she isn’t expecting anyone – no-one’s _talking_ to her, her Dad is still at work and wouldn’t need to knock anyway, and she’s immediately wary even though she knows that if it were anyone that meant her harm they wouldn’t knock to announce their presence.

Pepe is with her, hasn’t left her side ever since Emily had stormed out of the house yesterday – he’d bounded over to her where she’d collapsed on her bedroom floor, stuck his wet nose in her face and licked her cheek, let her wrap her arms around his neck and cry into his fur until it was damp and the tears had finally stopped falling – and it’s comforting, to know that at the very least she isn’t _completely_ alone.

She glances through the peephole before she opens the door, is surprised to see Spencer on the other side because she and Spencer have never been close, have always been more frenemies than friends, forever challenging the other, and she’d expected that, after seeing the photos and questioning Noel, that Spencer would want nothing to do with her ever again.

She pulls the door open with trepidation in her heart, because she’s not really sure why the brunette is here but she’s pretty sure it can't be for a _good_ reason, but the smile that flashes across Spencer’s face when she sees Alison doesn’t seem forced, and she’s more confused than ever.

“Hey.” Pepe darts through the gap to say hello, his tail wagging frantically behind him as Spencer rubs a hand over his head and pats his back gently.

“Can I come in?” The brunette asks and Alison nods, stepping aside to let her through and shutting the door behind them, leading her into the kitchen (because it feels too personal, somehow, to go up to her bedroom with Spencer, and she can't bear to go into the living room since she’d been strangled), and the brunette follows her quietly.

“Can I get you anything?” She asks as Spencer leans against the kitchen counter, Pepe hovering around her, just for something to _do_ because she doesn’t know how to act around any of her friends anymore, not really – they’re all so different and she knows that they don’t trust her in the slightest, and she never expected coming back to be quite so… _difficult_. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, I guess.” Alison nods, more to herself than anything else, busying herself with boiling the kettle and fetching mugs from the cupboard, all the time feeling Spencer’s gaze on her back. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She plants her hands on the kitchen counter, standing by the sink and refusing to turn around, but in the reflection of the kitchen window she can see the look of sympathy on Spencer’s face and she _hates_ it.

“You were pretty upset last night,” the brunette says carefully, and Alison curses herself for not having the strength to keep her voice steady enough on the phone with Spencer, for letting the brunette know that she was crying. 

“Well I’m fine,” she snaps, voice harsher than she intended, but she can't _help_ it – she doesn’t like feeling weak, she’s an expert at wearing a mask and hiding her true emotions and she hates the fact that last night she’d cracked.

“I was just asking,” Spencer mutters, and Alison closes her eyes, forces herself to take several deep breaths to calm herself down – the kettle boils and she makes the tea with shaking hands, and by the time she’s turning around to place the mug down in-front of Spencer she feels a little better.

“Why are you here?” She asks, cutting right to the chase, because there’s no way Spencer would be here without a reason – she’s not one for spontaneity, and despite living just next door, before Alison disappeared she rarely dropped by unannounced, and with how different things are now a visit isn’t something that Alison would have ever expected.

“I wanted to check on you,” she shrugs as she lifts the mug to her lips, curling her hands around it and watching Alison over the rim with inquisitive eyes, and Alison wonders how awful she must’ve sounded on the phone, how terrible she must’ve looked when the brunette had stopped by to get the photos, to warrant this level of concern.

“And?” Alison prompts, because there’s something else, she can tell – she’s always been good at reading people, it’s one of the things that had made her so good at being such a bitch, because she could always tell the exact right moment to pick a fight, knew the exact right thing to say to strike the hardest blow.

“ _And_ I wanted to give you these back.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out an envelope and Alison eyes it with distaste because she knows that what lies inside it is the reason she’s lost whatever slim chance she’d had with Emily since coming back, and why on earth would she want a reminder of that?

“I don’t want them,” she says immediately, shoving them back towards Spencer as the brunette pushes them in her direction. “You can have them. Keep them, burn them, I don’t care.”

“They’re evidence that you were lying about being kidnapped,” Spencer points out, and Alison’s teeth grind because does Spencer think that she’s an _idiot_? “Aren’t you being kind of… trusting? To just give them to me?”

“You went along with my story.”

“Theoretically we could say that we had no idea you were lying.”

“Theoretically.” Alison regards Spencer carefully, takes in the determined set of the brunette’s jaw and knows that, if it came down to a choice between Alison or the others, Spencer wouldn’t be choosing her, and she files that away for later – she’s sure that she can think of a way to keep Spencer under her thumb, if it comes down to it, but she doesn’t _want_ to, wants to show them that she’s changed (wants to show _herself_ that she’s changed). “I think I’ll take that chance.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t _want_ them,” she hisses, prodding at the envelope again until it falls off the edge of the countertop and Spencer has to lunge to catch it, shaking her head before sliding it back into the pocket of her jacket.

“Suit yourself.” They regard each other over the counter and Alison thinks that it feels a little like old times, when they were more likely to tear out each other’s throats than hug, and she wonders what Emily’s told her – and if she’s told her everything, what Spencer thinks of it all. What she thinks of Alison – wonders if she would’ve told Emily that Alison was bad news, to forget all about her and go back to Paige.

Even the thought stings – she knows what it’s like to see Emily with someone else, but only from afar, she’s only had brief glimpses of her with Maya and she’d seen her once with Paige (she hadn't been able to decide how she felt about that, at the time, to know that Paige had gotten the girl, in the end, despite what Alison had done to her – she wonders now if it means that she still has a chance and quickly pushes the thought away), doesn’t know if she’d be able to handle watching her have a relationship with someone who isn’t her up close.

“Don’t you want to know what we asked Noel?” Spencer’s voice startles her out of her thoughts and she raises an eyebrow, unaware that Spencer had seen her watching them. “Emily mentioned that she saw you. I thought you’d be curious.”

It’s almost funny, to see how confused Spencer is by her, now, to watch the wheels turning in the brunette’s mind, trying to figure her out. Alison had never been an open book but it had been Spencer who had known her the most, because they were startlingly similar, in some ways, but she’s no longer so easy to read, knows that she’s confusing the brunette because she’s not doing anything that she expected.

And truthfully, she _is_ curious, has been ever since her eyes had landed on the three of them in Noel’s car. Of course, she had her suspicions – she’d been obsessing about it all night, choosing to focus on that instead of the thought of Emily and her broken heart – but she couldn’t decide on anything for sure.

“I figured if I needed to know then you’d tell me.” She can't help but smirk when she sees the frown on Spencer’s face, because the old Alison would have never said that, would have stopped at nothing to know everything she could.

“So _do_ you want to know?”

“Only if you want to tell me.” She smiles serenely at Spencer over the lip of her mug as she raises it to her mouth, and maybe she’s enjoying this a little too much, but she’s been on her own all day and she’ll take her entertainment however she can get it, these days.

“Noel took them,” the brunette says eventually, and she watches Alison carefully, searching for a reaction, but the blonde keeps her face carefully blank. “You’re blackmailing him.” It isn’t a question, so she doesn’t answer it – Spencer doesn’t need to know what she has on Noel, none of them do. “And he wants it to stop. The photos are his insurance policy.”

“Let me guess, he’ll go to the police the next time I ask him to do something for me.”

“Yep.” Alison can't really say that she’s surprised – when she’d asked Noel to break in to Hanna’s she’d sensed the resentment there, had felt it coming for a while now, if she was being honest, had wondered if he was plotting something.

At least now she knew though _damn_ him, for causing this.

“And…” Spencer starts but then trails off, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, and Alison just raises an expectant eyebrow. “I just thought you’d want to know because I know I would, but he uh… he used you. He kissed you just so he’d have a picture of it. To use against you.”

“To show to Emily.” Her mouth twists into a grimace as Spencer gives a nod of confirmation, and really, she should’ve have expected something like this. She never told Noel how she felt about Emily, but he was the one she’d gone to, to ask about Maya and then Paige, and there had always been a knowing smirk on his face any time she’d mentioned Emily’s name, and she’d used to wonder when she’d started to wear her heart on her sleeve.

“Good thing he never meant a thing to me, then,” she mutters, mostly to herself. She’d only kissed him twice – the one time in the photos and once before then, not long after she’d gone back to Rosewood and seen Emily and Maya together, when she’d felt so desperately alone that the weight of it had been crushing her, and he’d looked at her like he wanted her and told her that she was beautiful and she’d thought that if Emily had someone else then maybe she could, too.

But his lips weren’t soft, his mouth was hard and demanding against hers, his hands too large and too possessive on her waist, and she’d pushed him away almost immediately, filled with regret and an aching loneliness that she felt all the way down to her bones, hating herself for thinking that it would be so easy to erase Emily from her memory (and hating the fact that a part of her even wanted that in the first place).

It stings to know that she’s lost another friend, though, because that’s what she’d thought of him as, at least at the start. But first Shana and now Noel have turned on her and hung her out to dry, and she’s lost Emily now, too, and with her the other three and somehow she feels more alone now than she ever did when she was on the run.

“Can I… ask you something?” It’s the hesitation in Spencer’s voice that makes her wary, and she suspects that a question about Emily is coming that she isn’t going to want to answer even as she nods. “Do you really care about her?”

“I… It’s complicated,” she sighs, because she can't spill her heart to Spencer when she can't even tell _Emily_ how she feels, and in any case, she’s not really sure that she knows _how_ to. “But yes. I care about her a lot. I always did.”

“You had a funny way of showing it.” Alison winces, and she wishes more than anything, with her entire _being_ , that she could take all of it back. “I never knew, back then. I always… suspected, that there was something more going on with the two of you, but I didn’t know what. And when she told us I… I was so _angry_ with you, because how could you put her through that? How could you… how could you treat someone like that? A _friend_?”

“I’m not going to defend myself to you.” She lifts her chin defiantly, narrows her eyes into a fearsome glare because Spencer doesn’t have any right to question her about things that she doesn’t _understand_ , she doesn’t have to explain herself to _anyone_ (aside from Emily, but Alison’s pretty sure that the brunette wants absolutely nothing to do with her right now, maybe she won't ever again).

“I’m not asking you to. I just want to know why you did it. How you could treat her like shit and then turn around and say that you were in love with her the whole time.”

“You don’t know what it was like,” she says quietly, her eyes dropping to focus on the kitchen counter.

“Then help me _understand_.”

“I was scared.”

“So was she.” Spencer’s voice is hard, and Alison’s lips quirk into a bitter smile because she’s glad, that Emily has someone like Spencer looking out for her – even if it means that she’s on the end of the brunette’s questioning, this time. She’s glad that they’re all still friends, that they all have each other, and that they’d managed to stick together, even after all they’ve been through.

They deserve that, even if it does make her feel like she’s an outsider. She was the one who had brought them all together, who had made them stronger by introducing them, and she’s glad that their friendship had survived.

“If you’re expecting me to say that what I did wasn’t horrible, then you’re gonna be disappointed. I know I hurt her, I know I was wrong and I’d apologize a thousand times a day for it all if I thought for a second she’d listen to me.

“But I fucked up again and she can't even bear to be in the same room with me, so I don’t know what you want me to say to you. That I’m sorry? Because I am. I’ve spent the past two years with nothing for company other than the memories of the girl I used to be and every morning I woke up disgusted by some of the things that I did and if I could go back and change it all I would in a heartbeat, because none of you deserved what I put you through.

“But I can't change any of it and I can’t make it right, all I can do is try to prove to you that I’ve changed, even if none you believe that I have. So if you’re here to tell me that I’m a shitty person then thanks, I already know that and I don’t really need a reminder so could you just… leave. Please.”

She hadn't really meant to say all of that – or even anything at all – but once she’d opened her mouth it was like a flood, and she always thought that you were supposed to feel better about yourself once you let your feelings out, but instead she feels even worse.

“I’m sorry, Alison, I…”

“I don’t need your sympathy.” She’s let her walls down too far, she’s said too much, and she’s immediately back on the offensive, her voice cold and her stare hard. “And I really would appreciate it if you went home – I have things to do.”

“Because you have such a busy life?” The brunette taunts, and Alison flinches, just a little, because once upon a time she would have had endless possibilities for what to do with her spare time, endless people to spend it with – and now the hours of loneliness stretch before her, seemingly with no end in sight.

“Get out,” she snaps, and Spencer rolls her eyes but straightens up, her mug clattering onto the marble countertop as she pushes herself away, and Alison follows her to the door.

“I’m not going to tell you to stay away from her,” Spencer murmurs as she pauses in the doorway, her back to the blonde – when she turns to look at Alison over her shoulder there’s a warning in her eyes. “Because I don’t think you’d listen and I don’t have any right to tell either of you what to do anyway. But if you hurt her again, if you upset her again, if you make her _cry_ again, you’ll wish that you really had died that night you were buried.”

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

 

Alison realizes pretty soon after Spencer's gone home that spending the night home alone isn't going to do her any good – all she seems to be able to do is brood, replaying her conversation with Emily from the previous night and then her conversation with Spencer, too, the brunette's threat still looming (and she has no doubt that Spencer can make her life a living hell, doesn't want that or the isolation that she knows will come along with it, and she wonders, not for the first time, if coming home had been such a good idea after all).

Sometimes Rosewood doesn't even feel like her home, anymore. Sure, she recognizes the streets and the places and some of the people, but there's a lot that's different (including in her own home – her mother's gone and her brother's in the wind and her father doesn't seem to be able to bear being in the same room with her for longer than an hour, and some days she wonders why she'd even come back here at all).

Well, she knows why, technically – Emily had asked and she'd come running, too weak to walk away from the brunette for a second time, but now she's messed it all up before anything could even start, and there's a voice in the back of her head telling her that things would be so much easier if she just left town again.

She hadn't been altogether serious about it, after Toby's house had blown up – she'd been scared, yes, but she'd been scared to leave, too, scared of what it would do to Emily, to have Alison back only for her to disappear again (she thinks that maybe now the brunette wishes that she  _had_ gone, perhaps that would be less cruel than the damage Alison has inflicted on her since then), and she doesn't know if she would have actually been able to go through with it, had A not taken the decision out of her hands.

She ends up taking Pepe out for a walk, unable to stand the dark, oppressive silence of the empty house any longer, and she clips on his lead and takes him around the block, deciding to wander through the park.

It's getting dark out, the days becoming shorter, but she doesn't mind it – she likes the twinkle of the stars in the sky above, moonlight filtering down and lighting their way, and she always loved walking at dusk, wondering what secrets she could discover as the light faded and night began (because people naïvely thought that the darkness offered them protection from prying eyes like hers).

Pepe pulls her along, his tail wagging constantly as he sniffs along the sidewalk, and it's nice, to feel like a normal teenager for once. She'd always wanted a dog, when she was younger, but her Mom had never let her have one – she thinks it's ironic that she has one now, when her Mom is gone, her parting gift to the daughter she'd never said goodbye to.

The park is unusually quiet but Alison likes it, likes hearing the chirping of crickets as she lets Pepe off his lead to roam free, and she throws him the ball she brought with them, smiles softly as he bounds across the grass to retrieve it and bring it back, having learnt pretty quickly that fetch was a game that he would never tire of.

When she sees two figures sitting on a bench a little way away she thinks nothing of it – at least until Pepe takes off towards them at a run, and Alison is horrified as she jogs after him, and promptly stops in her tracks when she realizes just  _who_ , exactly, Pepe has run to.

He'd loved Emily since the day he'd come to Alison (the blonde thought that he loved Emily more than her, sometimes, with the way he reacted every time to brunette came around, vying with Alison for Emily's attention), and he barks excitedly as he hurtles to a stop just in-front of the bench, and Emily hops down from it (swaying unsteadily as she does so, and Alison sighs because she's obviously been drinking  _again_ ), and says hello to him.

Hanna, Emily's unsurprising companion, eyes Alison warily as the blonde just watches the scene from a few yards away, and she sighs before moving closer because doesn't want to leave the two of them out here drunk off their asses, because  _anything_ could happen to them – they could get attacked, or hounded by A, any number of awful things could happen and what were they  _thinking_?

"What are you doing out here?" She asks as she nears the bench, burying her hands in her pocket and tugging her coat tighter around herself, feeling the chill of the night air against her exposed skin, and Emily remains crouching on the floor with her arms around Pepe but does glance up at Alison, and it's the first time the blonde's made eye contact with her all day and even though she looks like crap she's still the most beautiful woman Alison's ever seen, and she can still take her breath away with just a single look.

"What are  _you_  doing out here?" Hanna counters, openly glaring at Alison, slurring her words, and Alison rolls her eyes and then, when she notices the half-empty bottle of alcohol on the bench beside the blonde, she lunges forward and snatches it away, Hanna too slow to stop her. "Hey! Give that back."

"No," the blonde says stubbornly, as she unscrews the lid and pours the liquid within onto the grass beside her feet, and it's really kind of comical, that  _she's_ the responsible one in this little group. "You're going to drink yourselves to death."

"Maybe that's the point." Hanna is sullen as Alison hands the empty bottle back to her, and the blonde takes it with a scoff before dropping it to the ground. "What's it like, Ali?" The blonde pauses as she leans down to grab the bottle back and turns to the nearest bin, made curious by the tone of Hanna's voice. "To know that you drive people  _to_ drink themselves to death?"

"Hanna," Emily warns, and she rises to her feet and leans back against the bench with a severe look on her face as she regards the blonde in question.

"What? Don't fucking defend her to me, Emily. Not you, of all people. Do you really think she gives a fuck? About any of us?" Alison's never seen Hanna so angry – her eyes are dark, flashing with a fury that's probably been building for a long time, the blonde keeping inside the years of insults and Alison's taunting about her weight and all her insecurities, and they all come pouring out now and really, Alison deserves this.

She deserves all of this – all of this destruction that she's wrought, crashing down around her – and karma really is a bitch, after all.

"Are you not going to defend yourself?" Hanna's voice is loud, her expression twisted into a glare as she meets Alison's eyes, and the blonde can only look at the two of them, these girls that she loves, and wonder how much better off they'd be without her. "Well?"

"I don't know what you want me to say," she answers carefully, digging her hands deeper into her pockets and pulling her coat even tighter around herself, as though it would offer protection from the sting of Hanna's words.

"How about a fucking apology for once in your life? How about actually standing up and admitting what a shitty person you are? How about apologizing for letting the four of us think you were  _dead_? Or for all the shit we went through because of you? How about showing some fucking  _remorse_ for what you did to us? You come back to town and pretend everything is fine and nothing's changed, and you're right – because you're still the same cold-hearted  _bitch_ that you always were before, and sometimes I wonder if we'd all be better off if you really  _were_ dead."

She flinches at the vehemence in Hanna's words, feels the sting of tears in her eyes even as a thrill of fury shivers down her spine – her hands curl into fists, her nails biting into her palms hard enough to draw blood as she wills herself not to speak out.

Because she knows that Hanna means every word, but she also knows that the blonde's drunk, has no control over what she's saying – and Alison can't be mad at her for that, can't try to show them all that she wants to be better person if she lets her rage take over and snaps at the blonde like she wants to.

She wants to scream at her that she has no idea what it was like, to be threatened and tortured by someone for  _months_ and to doubt every person around you. To not know who you could trust – if anyone.

She wants to shout at her that at least, despite everything else, the four of them had each other. They had each other to lean on when it got to be too much, to confide in – but she never had that. She was all alone, just like she always has been.

Sometimes she wonders if she always will be.

She wants to grab Hanna by the shoulders and shake her, to tell her about the horrors she'd endured living on her own for the last two years, because none of it had been easy. She'd left town because she'd thought it would be safer (and really, how much more  _unsafe_ could it be, after being buried alive by your own  _mother_ because she loved someone else enough to protect them over you?), but she'd been wrong.

She has a scar on her thigh to prove that.

But she keeps herself quiet (barely – it's a struggle, and she has to take deep breaths and grind her teeth and look away from Hanna's baleful eyes because she can't crack, she  _can't_ , she can't let either of them see how much this hurts her, how much she needs them), instead turns away from the pair of them and drags her phone out of her pocket and calls the one person that she can count on to help her out, because no matter how mad she is, she can't leave the two of them out here alone.

" _I'm surprised you even want to talk to me after our conversation earlier."_

"Yeah, well, I need your help," she sighs, casting a quick glance over her shoulder to check that Hanna and Emily are still there. "It's Emily and Hanna."

" _Let me guess,"_ Spencer replies with a sigh of her own.  _"They're drunk."_

"Extremely. Could you come and pick us up? We're in the park, I could use some help trying to get the two of them home in one piece."

"We don't need babysitting," Hanna snaps from behind her, "especially not by  _you_." Alison whirls around, anger flashing in her blue eyes as her tenuous control snaps.

"Oh yeah? Then how the fuck do you plan on getting home? I can see your car keys – were you planning on driving back? Maybe you want to wrap your car around a tree or a lamppost. That'd be a quicker way to go than drinking yourselves to death, like you seem intent on doing. Maybe I  _should_ let you drive, maybe I'll come along with you – that way at least you'll finally be rid of me and god, I think everyone in this town knows how much the four of you want  _that_."

She shakes with the force of her words, feels her fury licking like fire through her veins, and both Hanna and Emily just look at her, wide-eyed, and all she can hear is the sound of her pounding heart and Spencer's even breathing in her ear.

" _Alison –"_

"Don't fucking  _lecture_ me, Spencer," she hisses down the phone, because she's had  _enough_ , enough of all of this, and maybe she really  _is_ as much of a bitch as they all make her out to be, but she doesn't  _care_  anymore.

" _I wasn't going to_ ," the brunette replies quietly, and Alison remembers her earlier concern, when they'd been in her kitchen and sighs, all the fight going out of her and she just wants to collapse to the floor and maybe never move again.  _"I can't come and help you – my parents want to talk to me and Melissa about what's happening with the divorce, but I can send someone else to help. Give me a few minutes."_

x-x-x

It feels like an age, waiting for the help that Spencer promised. The brunette had hung up and then had called Hanna back a few moments later – or Alison assumes that's who the blonde's talking animatedly to, anyway.

She'd walked a few steps away from the two of them to lean against the trunk of a nearby tree, close enough to keep an eye and make sure they're not harbouring more alcohol but far enough away to not be able to hear what they're saying.

Emily has been quiet throughout the whole ordeal, barely even speaking to Hanna whenever the blonde turns to ask her something, and Alison would give everything she has just to know what the brunette's thinking.

She'd used to be able to read Emily like a book – it was easy, to guess what was on her mind. She wore her heart on her sleeve and her emotions in her eyes, and Alison had always been good at reading people, but Emily was easier than most.

But now she's an enigma that she feels like she barely knows. And she supposes that she doesn't, not really, because a lot's changed since she was last here in town and while she's so, so happy that Emily has turned out to be so sure and so strong and so  _good_ in spite of everything that she's been through, a selfish part of her longs for the old days when things have  _easier_.

When help arrives, it's not in a form she's expecting. She'd told Spencer where to find them before she'd hung up, and when she sees a male figure striding towards them she frowns, because she'd figured Aria would probably be who Spencer called – she doesn't recognise Caleb until he's illuminated by a nearby streetlight, and she pulls out her phone to text the brunette, a frown on her face.

_Caleb? Seriously? I thought he was part of the reason why Hanna's drinking so much, is this really a good idea?_

Hanna doesn't look happy to see him – in fact, she glares at Alison like it's all  _her_ fault when he eventually reaches them – but Alison just ignores her as her phone chimes with Spencer's reply.

_I went to talk to him after I left yours – told him to get his act together and help her out. They need each other. They'll get each other through this._

Alison isn't so sure, but she supposes she has no right to argue. She knows nothing about him, really, or his relationship with Hanna, but she trusts that Spencer does and slides her phone back into her pocket as she makes her way over to him.

"You can go home now, I've got it from here," he says, barely even glancing towards her, but it's enough for her to smell the stale scent of beer on his breath and she narrows her eyes into a glare as she takes a step closer to him.

" _You're_ drunk as well? I thought Spencer told you to clean yourself up!"

"Not that it's any of your  _business_ ," he glances towards her, face full of contempt and she's taken aback by the hatred that someone she barely knows can hold for her. "But I didn't know that I was going to have to come to the rescue. I'd already had a drink or two before Spencer came to see me – I didn't see the harm in having a couple more and starting sobriety tomorrow."

"Isn't that what people who intend to put it off say? 'Oh, I'll just do it tomorrow?'"

"I don't need a lesson on how to live my life from  _you_ ," he snarls, lips curling into a mocking smirk, and Alison's hands clench once more, her jaw setting. "Why are you even here, anyway? I didn't think you cared enough to actually lower yourself to helping somebody without getting something out of it."

"You don't know anything about me." Her voice is cold, flat and emotionless, and he watches her with avid interest, that damn smirk still on his face. "So don't  _presume_ anything. You take care of Hanna, and I'll make sure Emily gets home safe."

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Caleb replies with a wary look towards where Emily is sitting curled up on the floor with Pepe lying beside her, his head on her lap (he's barely spared Alison a glance since running over there, the traitor).

"Well seeing as you're drunk yourself I really don't think you're up to making any decisions," she snaps, because suddenly she's  _exhausted_ and she just wants to get out of there. "So why don't you shut up, take her home, and both of you can sober up together."

She doesn't leave him time to argue, instead heading over towards Emily and extending a hand towards the brunette to help her stand. She stares at it for a moment, and Alison thinks for one terrifying moment that she's messed things up between them so much that Emily will refuse to take it and demand to go with the other two, but eventually she grasps Alison's hand with her own and allows the blonde to haul her to her feet.

She knows that it's probably a bad idea to be with Emily right now, when she's so drunk that she can't even walk in a straight line, but she can't bear to let her go now that she's with her, because she doesn't know when –  _if –_  she'll get the chance again.

Emily leans her weight heavily on Alison as they make their way back to the brunette's house (Alison is glad that Emily lives closer to the park than she does), with the support of Alison's arm wrapped around her lower back, Pepe trotting along beside them.

They don't talk, and the blonde doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. She doesn't even know if Emily is aware of what's going on around her – there's a dazed expression on her face and her eyes stay trained on the floor, focusing on her shuffling feet.

It's a torturous fifteen minute walk that should normally only take five, and Alison realizes too late her mistake in that she's never going to get the brunette past her mother and up to bed when she's got Pepe along with them, too.

And she can't just leave him outside, because she always hates seeing dogs tied up outside shops while their owners are inside, so she resigns herself to facing the wrath of Mrs Fields as she knocks on the front door (instead of rooting around in Emily's pockets for her keys), and when Emily's Mom opens the door the way her eyes widen would have been comical under any other circumstances.

"Is she  _drunk_?" She whispers, horrified, as Emily's head lolls back onto Alison's shoulder, and the blonde can only offer up her best sheepish expression as she tries not to sag under their combined weight.

"Um, it's a long story." Pam reaches out for Emily's other arm and helps Alison manoeuvre Emily into the house. "But yes. Probably very drunk but I don't know for sure. I found her and Hanna in the park."

"Well… thank you, for getting her back safely." There's a frown on Pam's face, and Alison wonders just how much of a telling off the brunette's going to get when she wakes up in the morning. "I'll take it from here."

She's kind of loathe to leave, especially when she doesn't know when she'll see the brunette again – or, well,  _talk_ to her again because she's sure she'll see Emily in the torturous class that they have together, or catch glimpses of her in the hallways at school like she had today, but none of that is  _enough_  – but she can't think of a reason to disagree so she just nods and twists away from the hold that Emily's managed to get on her, transferring over to Pam's shoulder instead.

But the brunette's hand closes around her wrist as she turns to walk away, her grip surprisingly strong consider how inebriated she is, and Alison wonders for a second if Emily is even aware of what she's doing, until the brunette speaks.

"No." Her voice is quiet but forceful, and she tugs a little on Alison's sleeve, dragging her a little closer. "Don't leave me. Not again." Her voice cracks, and yet more tears spring into Alison's eyes and she's not quick enough to blink them away before a couple escape, and she knows that Pam notices as she lifts the arm that's not being held by Emily to wipe them away with the back of her hand.

"You're the one that keeps walking away from me," she says, softly, because she's had to watch Emily walk away from her twice within the last week and it  _hurts_ , like little shards of glass in her heart, pressing deeper and deeper with every breath that she takes until she feels like maybe she has no heart left to tear at all.

"Don't leave," Emily repeats, voice pleading, and Alison just looks helplessly at the brunette's Mom – she looks torn, her gaze flitting between the two of them. " _Please_."

"I'll need some help getting her up the stairs," Pam says eventually, reluctance written all over her face and it makes Alison pale, just a little, wondering just what, exactly, the brunette's mother knows about their… can she call it a relationship? She doesn't really think she can, considering the fact that they've never even been on so much as a date, but sometimes she  _feels_ like they're in one, because her heart has belonged to Emily Fields for as long as she can remember.

She takes Emily's left side and Pam gets her right, and they make it up the stairs in one piece, Alison turning into Emily's room and flicking the light on before they lead the brunette over to the bed – she collapses face-first against the covers and Alison rolls her gently so that she's lying on her side, trying to ignore the fact that the brunette's shirt has ridden up significantly to reveal a strip of toned skin beneath and god, she should  _not_ be thinking about things like that right now.

Except she can't  _help_ it. Can't help her mind flitting back to that night (it felt like ages ago, now), in her room when Emily's mouth had been hard and demanding against hers, when she'd allowed herself to let go, a little, to be bolder than she'd ever dared before, and let her hands wander across the brunette's body.

She'd never thought that something as simple as kissing could ever be so…  _erotic_ , but that's what it was like, being with Emily. Emily kissed her like she mattered, like she was everything, and it had made her head spin and her heart pound she she'd never felt quite so  _alive_ in her life.

And the memory of it haunts her – at night she dreams of the feeling of Emily's tongue stroking against her own, of the sound of the brunette's moan when Alison's hands had dared to slide down, one cupping the back of her bare thigh and the other digging into her ass to bring her closer, and she remembers the heat of Emily's skin beneath her fingertips and she's woken up with an unbearable ache between her legs more times than she can count ever since.

But she should  _not_ be thinking about that right now, when Emily looks like she's about ready to pass out, lying there on-top of the covers fully clothed and with Emily's  _mother's_ eyes on her and god, she really  _does_ have issues.

"I'll… leave you two, to talk," Pam says after several seconds of heavy silence in which Alison can only shift her weight from one foot to the other anxiously. "If you could try and get her out of those clothes – at least the shoes and the jacket – that would be a great help." Alison bites her lip at the thought of trying to wrestle Emily out of her clothes, and she didn't want the first time that she undressed her to be in  _these_ circumstances, but she nods anyway and Pam disappears after casting another worried glance towards them.

Alison doesn't miss the fact that she leaves the bedroom door deliberately wide open, and it makes her worry once more about just what, exactly, Emily's told her mother about them. Does she know about all the horrible things that Alison did to her daughter? And if she did, then how can she still look Alison in the eye without wanting to kick her out of the house?

She pushes the thought away, though, because now isn't the time – though she supposes she could get an answer to any question she asked Emily at this point, with how drunk she is. And there are a dozen at the tip of her tongue, but she won't ask any of them.

She can't, not when she shrouds herself in secrets like they're a veil, not when she can't even bear to show her soul to Emily (and maybe it's because a part of her is scared that, if Emily knew everything about her, saw everything that she was, knows about all the things she's done and all the people she's hurt, that she'll run away and never look back, and she doesn't think she could bear it). She can't be desperate for the truth when she's not strong enough to give it, herself.

She's pretty sure that Emily's asleep – her breathing is even and her eyes are closed, and she hasn't said a word since she'd begged her not to leave (and Alison thinks about how easy it would be, to just slip out of the door, now, when Emily's none the wiser, but a part of her can't stand the thought of letting Emily down again, even if she probably won't want to face her in the morning) – but she still hesitates before sighing softly and falling to her knees by the side of the bed, hands reaching out for one of Emily's legs and dragging the zipper of her boot down as gently and as quietly as she can before doing the other.

When they're both off she turns to put them to the side, out of the way so that neither of them will trip over them later on – and when she turns around she jumps, startled, because Emily has risen silently so that she's sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking down at her with dark, dark eyes.

Her expression is inscrutable, and Alison longs to know what she's thinking and hates that she can't even guess, and she's trapped beneath the weight if Emily's gaze, feelings like she can barely breathe and she's distantly aware of the pounding of her heart in her ears and she feels like she's waiting for something but she doesn't know  _what_.

She's not all that surprised when Emily reaches for her and crushes their lips together in a kiss that's full of desperation. It's similar to the last one they'd shared, where she'd been terrified of Emily walking away from her for good, wondering if it would be their last kiss – this one is all teeth and tongue, Emily's lips hard and unrelenting against hers, and it's a world away from the kisses they'd exchanged in Alison's bed, all shy looks and soft touches.

_This_ sends a thrill down her spine,  _this_ has her hands sliding up Emily's thighs to come to rest at her waist (and the moan that rumbles through the brunette's chest has heat pooling between her thighs).

And she knows that they should stop.

She knows that  _she_ should stop this because she's the sober one, and she knows there's no way that Emily would be doing this if she weren't drunk. She wouldn't be kissing her as though her life depended on it, in a way that has her head spinning and air disappearing from her lungs as she struggles to remember how to breathe. She wouldn't be tangling her hands in Alison's hair and tugging hard enough to make her hiss in pain (but it's oh, so sweet at the same time).

They're a living, breathing disaster and they should be staying far away from each other –  _Alison_ should be staying far away from this woman who she's bent and she's broken and she's shattered perhaps beyond repair, instead of drowning in her and making everything a hundred times worse.

She's filled with remorse when she does eventually tear her lips away from Emily's (and misery, too, wondering if she'll ever get to feel this again – and she feels guilty for even wanting it to, for wanting something that shouldn't have ever happened in the first place), but the brunette doesn't let go of her, instead twists her head to the side and presses a heated kiss just below Alison's jaw and she shudders, her breathing ragged and her lips bruised.

"Em-Emily," her voice shakes as Emily's teeth scrape across her skin, and it takes every bit of willpower she has not to moan because  _god_ that feels so good. "We should stop."

"Why?" Comes the response, breathed against the side of her neck as Emily's lips continue to trail lower, and her hands slide out of Alison's hair and that's all she needs – she pushes herself away from the brunette and scrambles to her feet.

"Because you're drunk." Her hands tremble and all she can think about is the feelings of Emily's lips on her skin and it would be so, so easy to go back over there, to throw herself at a woman that she knows wants her even if she wishes she wouldn't. "And I'm not going to take advantage of you like that."

Emily's lips quirk into a bitter smile, and she shrugs herself out of her jacket and Alison has to force her eyes away, instead trains them on the floor. "Not drunk enough," she hears Emily mutter, and her heart breaks, that voice screaming at her once more than this is all her fault.

"I'm sorry," she says, because she feels like she should apologize for something – anything – and her gaze darts back up to meet Emily's and she flushes when she realizes that Emily's taken off her shirt, too, leaving her in just a bra and Alison has to force her eyes to stay focused on Emily's face, and not…anything  _else_.

"What for this time?" There's bleak amusement in Emily's voice as she squints at her from across the room, and she cocks her head to one side and Alison feels like she's being studied like a rat in some sort of sick science experiment.

"Everything."

"Not good enough," Emily fires back immediately, and the resentment held in those three words has Alison flinching. "I used to think about it, you know." Alison doesn't know because she has no idea what Emily's talking about – her eyes are unfocused, mind clearly far away. "About whether if… if you were drunk, if you'd act differently towards me. If you'd kiss  _me_ , for once. I used to think that maybe then you'd finally be honest with me, and tell me how you felt – how fucked up is that? How  _deluded_ was I?"

She's rambling, words spilling from her lips quickly, but there's a raw pain in her words and Alison knows that no-one else in the world could ever hate her as much as she hates herself in that moment, when Emily's angry eyes meet hers.

"And then it finally happened. Noel Kahn's party, two weeks before you disappeared. You got smashed –" She remembers that night, remembers the barrage of texts that she'd gotten from A and she'd just needed to  _forget_ , just for a little while – "and I asked you. I asked you if you felt the same way about me as I did for you. And do you know what you did?"

Alison shakes her head, made mute by the look on Emily's face because she doesn't remember any of it, the whole night is just a blur to her – she remembers arriving at the party and she remembers her first couple of drinks but then that was it, until she woke up the next morning somehow, miraculously back in her own bed.

"You kissed me. And I thought that that was finally it, you know? That I was right, that it hadn't all just been… wishful thinking." The brunette's voice is soft and Alison is frozen before her, terrified to hear what she has to say next. "And then you pushed me away and you laughed in my face and you told me that you could never feel like that about a  _girl_."

There's venom in Emily's voice but Alison knows that it's her speaking through Emily, knows that's how she would've said it, because she was Alison DiLaurentis and she didn't allow herself to  _care_ about anyone and god, she was a monster.

She still  _is_ a monster.

"I wrote you a letter, you know." The abrupt change of subject makes her head spin, still focused on that piece of her past that she doesn't remember, and Emily isn't looking at her anymore, is instead looking out of the window, a haunted expression on her face. "I wish you'd had a chance to read it," she sighs, and Alison is too scared to ask what it said.

(But she can guess).

"Hanna shouldn't have said what she did before." Alison doesn't know what to  _do_ with herself, doesn't know how to follow Emily's train of thoughts (doesn't know how to make any of this right, save to wish that she'd never been born). "That we'd be better off if you were dead."

"She was right to say that," Alison replies softly. "Sometimes I think it would've been better for everyone, too."

"Don't  _ever_ say that." Emily whirls back around to face her, and there's a ferocity to her words and a fierceness in her eyes that makes Alison's eyes widen. "Don't talk like that. Promise me."

"I…" She knows she can't promise that when it's a thought that she has a dozen times a day, and she's loathe to tell another lie. "How come you don't agree with her? After everything I've done. After what you just told me.  _How_ can you still care about me?"

"Because I'll always care about you." There's an intensity to Emily's gaze, and Alison realizes belatedly that she's strayed into the territory of 'things she'd wanted to ask but said she wouldn't because Emily was drunk and it wasn't fair'.

Fuck.

"Because no matter what you do, I'll  _always_ care about you. And because… because the moment they found your body…" Emily's breath hitches and she sounds like she's fighting back a sob and Alison had never wanted any of this. "It was… the worst moment of my life. But it almost… finding out that you were alive, seeing you again after all that time… it almost cancelled it out. But if you were really gone, if you were really dead, I… I don't know what I'd do."

"Well I'm not." Alison's throat feels tight, and she can feel the sting of tears behind her eyes and she doesn't know whether to scream or cry because Emily still loves her and she doesn't  _deserve_  it. "I'm here."

"But for how long?" Emily demands, voice hard. "How long before you decide to leave again? You were ready to the other night before A stopped you. You were going to leave me all over again, even after…" Emily's voice breaks and tears leak from her eyes and Alison swears she feels her heart twist in her chest even though she knows it's not  _possible_. "After you told me that I  _mattered_."

"Of course you  _matter_!" Frustration leaks into her words because she knows why Emily is like this, why Emily doesn't believe anything she says – it's because she's a liar and she tried so hard for so long to convince them both that she didn't feel anything for Emily and it's coming back to haunt her now. "Why do you think I couldn't say goodbye to you? It was because I knew that I couldn't. I couldn't stand to see the look in your eyes when I told you that I was leaving. I couldn't stand to see the disappointment. Or the pain."

"Or maybe you just never gave a shit so it was easy for you to just pack up and go. Again." Alison sighs, her eyes fluttering closed in defeat because she doesn't know what to  _do_ anymore and she's suddenly  _exhausted_.

"I don't know what to say to you." She runs a frustrated hand through her hair and takes a deep breath, and when she finally opens her eyes Emily's watching her warily. "I don't know how to make you believe me."

"How about trying for a little honesty for once in your fucking life?" Alison winces at the anger in the brunette's tone, but all the fight's gone out of Emily – she looks weary, as tired as Alison feels, her shoulders hunched (and she's still not put on a damn shirt and Alison's a little proud of herself, for  _not_ checking her out because god, would it be easy to), and her eyes downcast.

"I'm  _trying_." Her voice cracks with the force she puts behind it, because she  _is_ , she's trying to be better, not just for Emily but for the other girls, too, and for  _herself_. Because there are days where she barely stand to look at herself in the mirror, and she wants to  _change_. She wants to not be haunted by the memories of the things she's done (though some things, she's learned, are hard to forget). She wants to be able to look back at her life and actually feel  _proud_ of who she is, for once.

She'd give anything to feel pride instead of being sickened.

"I'm trying," she repeats, pleading, now, as blue eyes lock with brown. "Can that please be enough? Just… just for now?"

It takes Emily a long time to answer, and when she does she speaks haltingly, like she's not really sure what to say – not that Alison can blame her. "I guess we'll find out." And it's not really the answer that she'd wanted, but she supposes it's better than silence.

"Do you want me to go?" She doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to get sent away, but she'd hate to think that Emily might  _want_ her to leave but wouldn't be able to speak up to tell her that, and the last thing she wants is to feel like she's forcing the brunette into spending time with her.

"I…" Emily bites her lip, and Alison can see indecision warring in her eyes and she steels herself because she's sure that a rejection is coming. "I think that might be for the best." She fights to keep her expression carefully blank and just nods before spinning and heading for the door, because she thinks if she stays for much longer she might start to cry and she can't stand the thought of doing that in-front of Emily  _again_.

"Alison?" The brunette's voice stops her when she's halfway out the door, and her hand curls around the doorframe so hard that her knuckles turn white as she takes a deep breath and turns her head. "I'm sorry. About you needing to take care of me tonight. And about the drinking."

"You don't need to apologize for that," she says, puzzled. "It's my fault, isn't it? That you're drinking?  _I_ should be apologizing to you."

"Why?" Emily looks confused, now, her eyebrows creasing into a frown. "You never put the bottle in my hand.  _I_ chose that,  _I_ did that, and I'm not your responsibility." The brunette bites her lip, looks like she's debating whether to say something else. "Have you ever thought that… instead of apologizing so much for the past, maybe you should start focusing on the present? On making sure that in the future, you don't have a million things to be sorry for?"


	5. Chapter Five

She wakes up before her alarm the next morning, and just wants to roll over and  _die_ because  _god_ does she feel awful – her head pounds and when she opens her eyes she promptly shuts them again because the sunlight streaming in through the window is  _too bright_  and  _god_ she really needs to stop drinking because the hangovers the next day are really  _not_ worth it anymore.

She glances at the clock on her bedside table and sees that she still has another hour or so before she even needs to  _think_ about getting up and ready for school, curls up on her side and realizes belatedly that there's only a thin blanket covering her body, and she'd slept in just her jeans and a bra and god, what sort of state had she been  _in_ last night?

She tries to think back, but comes up short, and how had she even gotten  _home_ , anyway?

She recalls going back to Hanna's after school finished, and the blonde suggesting that they go to the park because it was a nice day, but… the rest is a hazy blur. She frowns as she draws the blanket up over her head to drown out the sunlight, rolling onto her stomach and trying to cast her mind back… and pales when she remembers one tiny detail from the night before.

Alison had been with her.

Fuck.

She can't remember much – has the vague image of Alison being with her downstairs, of her clutching at the blonde's jacket and begging her not to leave (could drunk her  _be_ any more pathetic? Is it possible that she's made Alison think any less of her than she already does?), and then… not much.

Not much aside from the memory of Alison on her knees in-front of her, of kissing Alison until her mind had gone blank, her hands twisted in blonde hair and Alison's hands on her thighs and what had she been  _thinking_?

(Cleary she hadn't been, though a part of her wishes that the memory wasn't so hazy because there isn't a single kiss she's shared with Alison that she doesn't remember in perfect clarity.)

She can't recall much else, though she's pretty sure there'd been an argument at some point (because isn't that all they seem to do, nowadays? Sometimes she misses the way they'd used to be, when she'd been too scared to point out how Alison hurt her, because at least then they weren't fighting all the time and it was  _easier_ , but she also knows that if anything ever  _is_ going to happen between them then they need to get past all of this, that they  _need_ to have it out if they're ever going to  _get_ anywhere, but that doesn't mean that it's not  _hard_ ), and she remembers telling Alison to leave, but that's… it.

And she wishes it wasn't, wishes she knew  _exactly_ what she'd said to the blonde, because she dreads to think what sorts of things she would've said under the influence… but she knows that the only way she's ever going to find out is to ask Alison herself and  _that's_ not going to happen anytime soon.

She's too terrified that she might've said something mortifying, like admitting how often she thought about the blonde ever since they'd kissed in Alison's room, or something equally bad, and it would also mean having to  _face_ Alison  _sober_ , and she's not entirely sure that she's ready for that, yet.

She'd gotten so drunk yesterday because of Noel (who is fast becoming number one on her most-hated list, after A, because he'd been the start of all of this (and the reasonable part of her knows that she and Alison have a lot more issues than just that, that this had been building for  _years_ , but rationality has never been her strong point, when it comes to Alison), and she hates him for using Alison (to get to  _her_ , she hates that part most of all), can still see the smirk on his face when he'd told her and Spencer about those stupid photos), and the things he'd said to her in his car.

He'd said that Alison was 'sweet on her' and she didn't know what to  _think_ about that, because did that mean Alison had confided in him, about her? That she found it easier to talk to  _Noel_  about Emily and what was going on between them, than Emily herself?

Or was Noel just messing with her?

She'd just needed to stop thinking about it, and Hanna had been there with a bottle to help her try, and she's pretty sure that she'd had more to drink last night than on any of the others, hence the sick feeling in her stomach and the pounding of her head, and the fact that she can barely even remember how she'd gotten herself home last night.

God, had her  _Mom_ seen her?

She hopes not, but she's pretty sure that the blanket came courtesy of her, and not Alison, and that's… not good. She'd spent so much time at Hanna's not just because the blonde always seemed to have a steady supply of alcohol – it was also so her Mom didn't have to see the state she got herself into, because she knew she'd worry.

She'd hated the look on her face, the times where Emily had lost herself in the bottom of a bottle before, after Alison's disappearance and after Maya's death, but it hadn't been enough to stop her – she'd just shut her out, instead.

And she didn't want to see that look again, even though she's pretty sure she's going to. But she thinks that she's had enough to drink by now that she could happily go the rest of her life without touching another – she supposes, though, that it's easier to promise that in the cold light of day when she's alone, rather than when she's looking at Alison and remembering all the pain and the heartbreak (she thinks that she needs some new memories of the blonde, that aren't tainted with lies and betrayal, wonders if she'll ever get the chance to make any), and how hopelessly in love with her she still is.

She's going to try, though – she hates the fact that pretty much all of the previous night is hazy, doesn't ever want to feel like this again. It reminds her too much of the night A had drugged her, when she'd come to with a shovel in her hand surrounded by the dirt that she'd dug up out of Alison's grave, and it's not a feeling that she ever wants to have again.

By the time her alarm goes off she doesn't feel any better – when she shifts to shut it off her stomach lurches and for several horrible seconds she thinks she might throw up, and even when it passes she still feels like shit and pain lances through her head every time she blinks and yeah, she's never touching alcohol again.

There's a light knock on her bedroom door few seconds later, and Emily has to steel herself because she's about to see if her Mom knew how drunk she'd been last night, and if she  _hadn't_ then she also has to act like she doesn't have the worst hangover she's had in a long time and she's not sure that any of it was actually  _worth_ it (because she still sees Alison's face, even when she's had so much that she can barely even think straight). "Emily?"

"Come in," she calls back, wincing when her voice comes out hoarse, and she can still taste the faintest hint of vodka on her tongue and it makes her feel ill. Her Mom's head pops around the door, a concerned look on her face, and Emily sighs because she  _knows_.

Fuck.

"I don't want you going to school today." She steps into the room and makes her way over the side of Emily's bed, perching on the edge of it and worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. "Okay?"

"But... Why? I'm fine." It's a lie, though, and they both know it – she can barely keep her eyes open, with how bright it is in the room, and when she pushes herself upright so that she's sitting with her back against the headboard she grimaces as her stomach lurches once again.

"You're hungover." She sounds so  _disappointed_  and Emily feels sick. "Aren't you?" Emily doesn't answer, but she knows she doesn't need to. "There's no way you couldn't be, with how bad you were last night."

"I'm sorry," is all she can think of to say, feeling very small under the heavy weight of her Mom's gaze. She accepts the packet of aspirin that she hands to her wordlessly, taking the water bottle too and popping two of the pills into her mouth, praying that they'll make her feel a little better (and knowing she doesn't really deserve it if they do, because she'd done this to herself).

"Ella Montgomery called me yesterday evening. She said that you were acting like you had a hangover in all of your classes, and do you know what I did?" Her Mom carries on, as though Emily hasn't spoken, worry still present in her eyes, and the brunette can only shake her head and feel a prickle of shame at the back of her neck. "I laughed. I wrote it off, said you must just have been having a bad day, because you're my daughter, and I'd know, wouldn't I? If you were getting yourself wasted on a school night?"

"I… I'm  _sorry_ ," she says again, because she doesn't know what else she  _can_ say, and her Mom doesn't deserve this – she hates the fact that she's made her worry, that she's  _disappointed_  her. "I didn't… I wasn't thinking. But it won't happen again, Mom, I swear. I'm… I'm done with it."

"Are you?" She's looking at Emily carefully, with shrewd eyes, and she wonders just how much her Mom can guess about why she's doing this in the first place.

"Yes," she replies, without hesitation, because she  _never_ wants to have a conversation like this ever again.

"So whatever it is that you're going through, whatever's plaguing you… That's just… gone away, now?"

"I… It's complicated." She thinks that that's the biggest understatement of the century, because the mess that her life has become is so tangled that even  _she_ wouldn't even know where to start with trying to sort it out. "It's not… gone away. But I know that drinking isn't the answer to it. I know that hiding from it and trying to forget about it  _by_ drinking isn't going to solve anything. I'm working on it."

"You said the same thing about Alison…" She trails off, looks like she wants to say more but not sure if she should, and Emily feels the first stirrings of worry, wonders if she'd said something to her Mom about the blonde last night. "It's… does this have to do with her? With how you feel about her?"

"Like I said, it's complicated," she answers eventually, her voice quiet, and she has to look away from her mother's searching gaze, focusing instead on her hands, where she's winding a strand of wool from the blanket around one of her fingers.

"Do you… do you need to talk to someone? I know that Dr Sullivan – "

"I don't need a therapist, Mom." Though the more she thinks about, the more she thinks that maybe she does – but she can't exactly be  _honest_ with them about anything, and that's the only way it'd ever be able to help her.

God, when had her life gotten so fucked up?

"It'd be okay if you did," her Mom says softly. "After all you've been through… no-one would judge you for it."

"I'm fine, Mom."

"You're not," she replies, shaking her head, worry still present in her eyes. "I know I haven't always been… there for you, when you needed me, Emily, but I still… You know you can talk to me, right? About anything? About… about girls?"

"I… yeah. I know." She frowns, then, more sure than ever that she'd said something she shouldn't have the previous night. "Where's this coming from?" She decides to just ask, because otherwise it'll eat away at her.

"It's just… you've been different, ever since Alison came back. I already told you that I thought you might have thought of her as more than a friend before, but I never really… thought about how difficult it must have been for you. To lose her and then find out that she wasn't really gone. And about how hard it must be now that she's back. And I just want you to know that if you need to talk about it, then I'm here."

"I wouldn't even know where to start," she murmurs softly, because  _that's_ the truth, at least. "But I know that I can come to you about it if I need to." She raises her eyes from her hands, flashes her Mom a grateful smile (because it's amazing, really, to think about how against the idea of her and Maya she'd been and to see her go to this, being so supportive, and sometimes Emily marvels at how far they're come), and she's surprised when her Mom reaches for her and pulls her into a hug.

"I love you, sweetheart." She squeezes Emily gently and the brunette just smiles, resting her head on her Mom's shoulder, finding comfort in the embrace.

"I love you too, Mom. And thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. You could've freaked out and yelled at me for coming home like I did last night. Most Mom's probably would have."

"And if I thought you were just doing it for the fun of it then I would have." She sighs softly, squeezing Emily's shoulders once more. "But I knew it was more than that, and that yelling at you would only make things worse. I want you to promise me something, though."

"What?"

"The next time you get yourself into such a state – and I know you said you're not going to again," she cuts Emily off when she opens her mouth to protest, "but in-case you do, then  _call_ me. I don't care where you are, I don't care what time it is, or who you're with, just  _call_ me, okay? So I don't have to worry about one of your other friends getting you home safely."

"I will," she promises, sitting up and frowning as she realizes something. "How  _did_ I get home last night?"

"You don't remember?" Her Mom's eyes fall on her and she can only shake her head, trying to fight through the jumbled haze that is her memories of the night before, but she comes up short. "Alison brought you back. Said she found you in the park." Well, at least that explains why the blonde had been in her bedroom last night – though not how she'd found her in the first place.

God, she hoped she hadn't drunk-dialled her.  _That_ would be embarrassing.

x-x-x

She stays in bed for most of the day, managing to grab a few more hours sleep after her Mom leaves for work. She wakes up in the early afternoon, but it's only when her headache begins to ebb away that she actually drags herself out of bed, deciding that this day can only be improved with coffee – but when she heads down to the kitchen it's only to discover that they've run out.

She briefly debates just going back to bed and feeling sorry for herself some more, before shaking the thought away, dragging on some clothes and heading out the front door, thinking she'd try out one of the other coffee shops in Rosewood beside the two she's already tried ever since she'd been fired from The Brew.

It's nice out, despite the chill in the air, and it helps to clear her mind, and she feels better by the time she reaches the middle of town, and then it's a matter of choosing where to go – the place she decides on is new, and she orders a coffee to go and walks down the street with it warming her hands.

It's not the  _worst_ coffee she's ever tasted, but it's not the best, either – she feels a brief pang of longing for the machine at The Brew, which made the  _best_ cappuccinos that she's ever tasted, but then she thinks of Zach, trying to take advantage of Hanna, and it quickly goes away.

She'll take the shitty coffee over anything to do with him, any day.

"Emily!" She pauses when she hears her name called, and when she turns around she's not sure whether she's happy or disappointed to see Paige a few steps behind her. "Hey."

"Hey." It's still a little awkward between them, despite their attempt to keep things friendly – it's not so bad with Sydney there as a buffer, but without it feels… strange. And Emily regrets the way they'd ended things – because of Alison, everything always leads back to Alison – but she doesn't entirely know if she also regrets the break-up itself (her head hurts, whenever she tries to figure out her feelings - for Paige or Alison). "How are you? After the whole… rat fiasco."

"I'm okay," she shrugs. "I missed you at school today."

"Yeah, I uh, wasn't well."

"But still well enough for coffee?" Paige teases, and Emily smiles softly, wondering if she'd be happier if they'd never broken up – but then she thinks of Alison, and knows that she would have never been able to live with it if she'd never at least  _tried_ to find out if the blonde ever had feelings for her.

"If I'm ever too ill for coffee, just start planning my funeral," she jokes back. "How was swim practice?"

"It was okay," she shrugs, "Sydney's coming along great, though. She'll be beating me soon."

"Not possible," Emily says with a small smile, shaking her head. "You'll always be the number one, you know that."

"I wouldn't be if you were still on the team."

"Well… I'm not, so," Emily shrugs, like it's no big deal – even though it is, even though every time she's in the locker room talking to Sydney or one of the other girls, or helping out with training in the pool, it sends a pang of longing through her so sharply that she wants to stagger under the weight of it.

Swimming had been her salvation, after Alison – the one and only thing that helped her keep her mind clear, because when she was in the pool, racing through the water with the only goal in her mind to  _win_ , nothing else had mattered.

There was just her, her mind blissfully blank, focused only on her breathing, pushing herself to go faster and faster, to the limit, until she could barely breathe and every muscle in her body was screaming at her stop – but now she can't do it anymore.

She'd tried, in the beginning, despite her doctor warning her not to. She'd slid into the pool three days after getting out of hospital, tried to swim and cried when all she'd succeeded in doing was putting herself in agony every time she tried to move her shoulder.

She'd thought it might have gotten better, with time, and though now she can swim fairly normally, she's nowhere near where she used to be, can barely even go faster than a beginner, and it…  _hurts_ , to know that she can no longer compete in the thing that she loves.

(It hurts, too, to know that A has ruined her chances of getting into a good college on a scholarship, and she'd cried about that for a long time, too).

"I'm sorry," Paige says softly, her eyes sympathetic as they meet Emily's, and she reaches for Emily's arm and squeezes. "I didn't mean to…" She trails off, and Emily remembers the day that Paige had found her in the pool once, tears still drying on her cheeks because she couldn't  _do_ it anymore, and she'd slipped into the water with her and wrapped an arm around her back and whispered that there was more to life than swimming and if she kept trying to push it she'd just end up worse off, in the end.

She thinks of the concern in Paige's eyes when she'd told her that even if she could never swim again, that it would be  _okay_ , and she can't help but wonder what Alison would've said, if she'd been the one to find her, instead.

And she hates that she even thinks about comparing the two, because she knows that they couldn't be any more different. But she can't  _help_ it because her relationship with Paige is flashing before her eyes, and it was  _good_ and  _easy_ and…  _genuine_ , and a part of her feels like an idiot for giving that up, over Alison.

But then she thinks of Alison, of the way that she's drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, despite everything they've been through. Still, she's drawn to her, even though she thinks her heart is still broken, and she remembers the feeling of kissing her, the hot press of the blonde's mouth against her own, and thinks that, regardless of how she feels about it now, she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Because Alison still holds her heart, and maybe she always will.

"I miss you, Em." Paige's voice breaks her out of her thoughts, and when her eyes find the brunette she sees that she's standing a step or two closer than before, and she swallows, wonders if Paige is going to try anything and dreading if she does because she doesn't know what she'll do.

"I miss you, too," she replies because she means it – what they'd had had been  _good_ , up until the end, despite their uneasy beginning, and going from that to barely seeing Paige has been  _hard_ , and if she hadn't been so busy with A and Alison she wonders if she'd have had time to feel heartbroken over what she's lost.

(Because she doesn't feel it, not really – she's filled with regret, from the way it ended, but… there's no ache in her chest, there's been no desire to reconcile, at least not romantically, not like… not like she feels about Alison, and they hadn't even ever been  _together_ and god she really  _is_ pathetic and really, Paige deserves better than her, someone still hung up on the ghost of a girl she used to know, she deserves someone that loves only  _her_ , is not haunted by their past, and for a startling second she wonders if she's almost as cruel to Paige as Alison is to her).

"I really,  _really_  miss you…" She's too caught up in her own thoughts to realize what's happening, and when she  _does_ realize it's too late to  _do_ anything – Paige takes a deliberate step forward and catches her wrist, leans closer and brushes their lips together.

And it's barely even a kiss, because a second later she's stepping away, shy smile on her face, and Emily is frozen, because she doesn't know how to  _react_ to that – because all she can think about is the way that Alison has her breath hitching and her heart racing, whereas that kiss had just made her feel… empty.

And she hates that, because a part of her thinks that she'd be better off with Paige, instead of chasing after Alison like a little lost puppy (that's what she'd used to feel like, before she'd disappeared, and she feels like she's back to that, now), but…

Alison is a flame in the darkness, burning bright and true and strong, setting everything that she touches aflame, and she's  _dangerous_ and addictive and everything Emily knows she shouldn't want but everything that she craves with every fibre of her being.

And Paige is… a spark. Strong at first, but eventually fizzling out until there's nothing left but smoke in the air.

"Paige, I…" She doesn't know what to  _say_ , but there's a look in the other woman's eyes that tells her that she already knows far more than Emily had ever wanted her to.

"You can't," she supplies, in a sad voice that makes Emily hate herself, just a little bit, for hurting her – but she knows the pain would be far worse, if she tried something with her again but without her heart truly being in it. "I get it. I already… I already guessed, but… I wanted to be sure. It's okay."

Emily thinks that it isn't, swears that she sees tears in Paige's eyes before they're blinked away, and her throat feels tight. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be," she says, waving a hand, but her voice cracks a little and Emily feels  _awful._  "I, uh, should get going. I'll see you around."

"Bye, Paige." Emily stands in the street, watching her go and clutching her coffee in her hands, praying that she hasn't just made a huge mistake…


	6. Chapter Six

At the weekend Alison manages to convince her Dad to take her down to the stables (after many hours of pleading), and he drops her off in the morning and promises to return for her in a few hours – it's the same place that her Mom had brought her to ever since she'd started to ride when she was six, and she feels a pang of nostalgia as she stares around the place after he's driven away.

She hadn't had the best relationship with her Mom when she'd been growing up (and  _that_ was an understatement), but some of her best memories had been of coming down to the stables every Saturday, of trotting through the woods with her Mom at her side, and everything else just… hadn't seemed to  _matter_ , when they were out in an open field, wind whipping at their faces.

The same guy, Stephen, still runs the place, and he waves her over as he comes out of the office. "Hey, Alison. Long time no see." There's a sympathy in his gaze that she knows she doesn't deserve, and she just smiles tightly and prays that he won't ask for any details about her stupid fabricated story.

(She knows that Aria had been acting in their best interests, when she'd stopped Shana up on that stage, but god, things would've been so much easier if she'd never touched her, because with Shana dead and a trail of breadcrumbs leading the police to New York, she knows it's just a matter of time before they connect the dots and place the five of them in that theatre, and she'd been  _trying_ to protect them from that, by lying, and instead it's all just… blown up in her face).

"Yeah. I haven't had much time for riding, lately."

"Excited to get back to it?"

"Can't wait." She smiles, a genuine smile (and it's the first one of those she's had in a while), and Stephen grins and nods his head, indicating that she should follow him around to where the horses are kept.

"When you called, I didn't really know what you'd be up for doing today," he says as he leads her towards one of the many stables dotted around the yard, and when he stops in-front of the door Alison pokes her head inside to see a pair of dark eyes watching her from the back, the horses' ears pricked forward in curiosity. "But if you want a challenge…"

Stephen had used to tell her that she was one of the best riders he had ever come across – she hadn't entirely believed him, had thought that he was just being nice to her (she was pretty sure he had a crush on her Mom), but there hadn't been a single horse on the yard that she hadn't been able to tame, by the time she'd gone missing and been forced to stop.

"Why not?"

"That's what I like to hear," he says, grin widening as he clicks his tongue, encouraging the horse within to approach the door. "This is Cola." Alison extends a hand towards the horse as his nose appears over the edge of the door, making a face when he licks her palm. "We got him about… three months ago. Ex-racehorse. Bit of a handful."

"Alright," Alison replies, patting Cola on the neck gently, and she's already starting to feel a little better after the awful week she's had – it had used to be the highlight of her week, coming down here, the only place where she felt she could get away from her problems, if only for a little while, and that was the main reason why she'd been so insistent on coming down here today.

She could use a little peace from her churning thoughts, because her mind hasn't shut up ever since she'd left Emily's bedroom on Thursday night (and she hasn't seen the brunette since – she hadn't been in school yesterday and Alison hadn't dared to ask any of the others why), and she just needs it to  _stop_.

"If you could tire him out, that would be great." She laughs but nods, accepting the challenge – and besides, if she's got her work cut out for her, she'll be concentrating on  _that_ rather than anything else and that is more than fine by her. "I'll just give you a quick tour, 'cause a couple things have changed since you were last here."

He shows her around the place before leading her back to Cola's stable where he leaves her to it, telling her to come find him if she needs anything, and she assures him she will before grabbing a set of brushes and setting about grooming Cola before she takes him out for a spin.

The monotony of stroking the brush over his fur is relaxing, and she hadn't realized how much she'd  _missed_ this until now, surrounded by the memories of a childhood that's long lost to her now, but she tries not to dwell on the pang of loss that it leaves in her chest, instead forces herself to remember the happy times she's had with her mother here (because it's the only way she can erase the image of seeing her body dug up from that shallow grave in Spencer's yard, and thinking about that makes her  _sick_ so she tries not to).

When her phone chimes with a text as she's getting ready to tack Cola up, she pauses, fishing her phone out of her pocket, assuming that it's her Dad – and she freezes when she realizes that it's from a blocked number, her heart starting to race in her chest, her palms feeling clammy, and she  _hates_ that someone has so much power over her, that seeing an unknown number flash across the screen of her phone fills her with dread.

She  _hates_ A for reducing her to this.

Her hands shake as she open the text, and she nearly drops her phone as she sees that there's an image within, and her breath rushes out of her lungs in a choked gasp, because there, on her phone screen, is a picture of Paige and Emily kissing in the street, and Alison wishes she could tell herself that it was taken a while ago, when they were still together, but she knows with a certainty in her heart that it's not, that it's recent and  _god_ , she feels like she's been stabbed in the chest and she  _shouldn't_ because she has no  _right_ to Emily, but god, it hurts, it aches, and she's about to switch the damn phone off and shove it away when she catches sight of the words at the bottom of the message:

_Payback's a bitch, isn't it? At least now you're even. –A._

Her hands shake with anger, then, rippling through her until she sees red, and she wants to smash her phone into a million tiny pieces, even though she knows that won't help anything – that photo will still haunt her (when she blinks, she can see the imprint of Paige's lips on Emily's behind her eyelids), and A will still be after her.

Cola's soft snort breaks her out of the murderous rage she finds herself in (and she's not sure who she's more mad at – A for sending this to her, for knowing how she feels about Emily (and that's a terrifying thought, because what if they try to use that? What if they try to use Emily against her? Because she's weak, when it comes to Emily, and if anything happened to her because of Alison… god, she doesn't know what she'd do), or Paige, for being able to do what she so desperately wants to, and she knows she doesn't have a  _right_ to be mad at Paige, but then again, she's never been very rational), and she jumps at the noise, startled – he turns to stare at her and she rests a hand on his neck, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and when he nuzzles her side gently she feels a little better.

It gnaws at her, though, as she's tacking Cola up – does this mean that they're back together? She knows that it probably does, but she needs to  _know_. And she knows that it's probably a bad idea to call Emily  _to_ ask her, but… it'll drive her crazy if she doesn't, and hey, what's one more bad decision to someone like her, anyway?

But the brunette doesn't answer, and she's left even more frustrated than before, so she settles for firing off a quick text, instead, even as her mind's screaming at her that she  _shouldn't_ , but her fingers move over the screen of her phone before she can stop them.

_I know I have no right to ask you for honesty, after everything, but I have to at least ask, even if you never answer… Is there still something between you and Paige?_

Once it sends she tries to push A's message out of her head, instead forces herself to focus on Cola as she leads him out of his stable and mounts up, smiling softly at how easily everything's coming back to her – she slides her feet into the stirrups and runs the reins through her fingers before nudging the horse onwards.

The trails around the stables haven't changed much since she'd last been here, and she takes her favourite one, which winds through the woods before opening onto several large fields, perfect for galloping across, and it's  _nice_ , to get back to this, to feel the wind on her skin and the sounds of the woods around her, the rocking movement of Cola beneath her comforting in a way that nothing else could ever be.

There's still the gnaw of worry, that she might have lost her chance with Emily before she'd ever truly had it in her grasp (and really, has she  _ever_ had a chance, since she'd come back? Had she ever had a chance, full stop? She wonders how different things would have been, had she not been a coward when they were younger, but she can't help but feel that Emily would have turned her back on her, in the end, anyway, once she'd truly realized the type of person Alison was – because she knows now, and Emily's nowhere to be seen), that Paige has swooped back in and run away with her.

And she knows it's probably selfish, that Paige can probably give Emily everything she needs without hurting her, like Alison does. But she can't stand the thought of them together – it feels like a physical ache in her chest, and she doesn't know how she could bear it, if they got back together.

It's a relief when she sees the line of trees thinning out in-front of them, and when they break onto the open grassy fields beyond she gives Cola his head and lets him run, losing herself in the feeling of racing over the ground, and the exhilaration of it all is almost,  _almost_ enough to push thoughts of Emily out of her head.

Almost, but not quite enough.

And she  _hates_ the fact that the brunette is always on her mind because it's  _torture_. And really, she should be used to it by now. It had always used to be Emily that she'd longed for, in the past, whenever some random guy had his hands all over her – she'd wished that they had been smaller, softer, and Emily always touched her (whenever she built up the courage), with reverence, as though Alison was the most precious thing in the world, when all the boys she'd ever kissed had touched her like it was their right, like they were  _entitled_ to.

But she'd been too  _stupid_ and too  _scared_ and too  _young_ to even be able to admit that to herself (it had always, always been there in the back of her mind but she'd never voiced the words aloud, never let herself be open about what she wanted because she  _couldn't_ ), and it's been  _years_ since she first came to the realization that Emily Fields was the only person that she'd ever truly wanted and she still can't even  _tell_ her that, and every time she's ever felt like trying the words stick in her throat, and she doesn't know how to tell Emily, how to  _show_ her, the depth of what she feels, and she doesn't  _deserve_ her, doesn't deserve someone so good when she's so twisted, but she thinks of that photo, of Emily kissing Paige, and her heart clenches in her chest because she's selfish enough to think that, even if she doesn't deserve Emily, then no-one else should be able to be with her, either.

It doesn't take her long to realize that, whereas once losing herself racing across an open field would have wiped her mind clear of all her worries, when it came to Emily it just wasn't enough. Because Emily has always been her exception, to everything – Emily's the one she fell for, despite the fact that she'd told herself a dozen times over that she wasn't meant for love, would never have it within her grasp; Emily's the only one she can let her walls down around, the only one who she's allowed to see her when she's upset of vulnerable; and she's the only one who'd brought her out of hiding without so much as a second thought of her own safety.

She still remembers that day in the barn like it was yesterday, the one that she's been thinking of so often lately, her go-to to try and show Emily how much she meant to her, because that was the day she truly let her walls down, let everything go…

_She's been scared before._

_She's felt terror before – pure, unadulterated terror, the type that leaves you trembling and shaky, so much so that you doubt your ability to stand on weak knees; that leaves your heart thundering in your chest, finding it hard to breathe._

_But nothing, nothing that she's ever been through, that she's ever felt before, compare to what she feels when she reaches that barn, knowing that Emily is inside, but not knowing if she's been quick enough to save her._

_That is the kind of fear that could bring someone to their knees, and Alison would buckle under it if not for the fact that she might not be too late – that Emily might still be alive, might still be breathing, and the hope of that is enough to win out over the dizzyingly terrifying thought that she might not be._

_Her hands shake as she undoes the deadbolt locking the brunette inside, and she raises her arm to cover her nose as she opens the doors, coughing as she's assaulted by the carbon monoxide that's made the interior of the barn hazy with smoke, and her eyes start to water, so badly that it takes her a few seconds to identify Emily's body – and she goes cold all over when she sees her, sprawled across the floor, and she's moving before she even thinks about, flinging herself to the floor beside the brunette._

_She's still alive, and Alison's never been one for it but she sends up a quick prayer anyway because this is nothing short of a miracle, the fact that Emily's chest still rises and falls with her breaths, that her skin is still warm to the touch, but when Alison's fingers close around her wrist and check for a pulse it's weak, and panic starts to flood through her once more._

_She's not strong enough to lift her, not with the gas still in the air, permeating her lungs, so she settles for hooking her arms under Emily's shoulders and dragging her out into the air, not stopping until she can't carry on anymore, when they're a few safe feet away from the barn entrance, and it's there that she collapses to the floor._

_Emily's face is pale in the weak sunlight that filters around them and Alison's heart is seized by panic, and she wants to call for help but she knows that she can't be here if she does and she can't bear the thought of leaving her._

_She settles Emily's head in her lap and just fixes her gaze on the brunette's chest because she's scared that if she looks away that she'll stop breathing, and Alison can deal with leaving her behind, because she knows she's still there, she's still alive, but the thought of Emily dead and gone because of her is… it sickens her._

_Because she never wanted this. She'd never wanted to lie and to leave her life behind, to have the people that she loved think that she was dead. But she'd thought that it was best (and god, how wrong she was, because A had moved from Alison onto her, and she can't do anything about it because she's still selfish, she's still a coward, and the thought of what A might do to her if she ever goes back to Rosewood makes her shudder)._

_And none of them deserve it, but Emily the least of all. And not just from A – from Alison, as well. And as her hands stroke gently through the brunette's hair, twisting the strands around her fingers as she looks down at her and tries to remember every single detail of her face (and she thought she had, but seeing her here, in the flesh (because she's slipped up a few times, gone back home disguised, and seen her around, and each and every time she does it takes her breath away because Emily was always beautiful but she's even more so now, so much so that it makes Alison's chest ache), but her memories pale compared to the reality, to seeing her so close, to be able to touch her like she'd never allowed herself to out of fear), she thinks of how she'd treated the girl she's cradling in her arms and she feels a rush of self-hatred that she's mostly managed to repress._

_(Mostly, because she slips up sometimes – she's tried to forget the past but it haunts her, waking and sleeping and god, the dreams are the worst of them all, to see Emily when she closes her eyes, to kiss her, to be with her like Alison knew she never would be, and then to wake up and know that none of it was real, that she's still curled up alone under a ratty blanket in an abandoned warehouse, that's… torture and she only has herself to blame)._

_A part of her wishes that she'd gone further away, gotten rid of the temptation to go home again. Because it hurts, to see them all without her (happy and without her, and she wonders, on her darkest days, if she'd done the four of them more harm than good), and Emily… Emily is happy and with someone else and it's… she knows that the brunette deserves it, deserves the world and more, and Alison could never have given that, but she'd still… god, she still cared about her, maybe in another world, where she knew how to, could have loved her, and it's… it's hard to know that the brunette has moved on, because Alison doesn't think that she'll ever be able to._

_When she feels Emily stir her heart sings, because it means she's okay – and then plummets, because it also means that she'll have to leave. If she weren't so selfish she would go now, before the brunette's eyes open, because it will hurt her less, in the end._

_But she is selfish, and she finds that she can't move, wants desperately to catch a glimpse of those brown eyes that she loves so much, tells herself that Emily will write this off as a near-death-experience hallucination later, and holds her breath as she waits for her to wake up._

And when Emily  _had_ woken up, she couldn't help but kiss her. She'd allowed herself just a brief second, to touch their lips together, a memory to keep her warm at night because she'd already forgotten so much (even though she desperately tried to keep a hold of her memories, replaying important moments of her life in her head every night before she went to sleep, hoping that she'd get to re-live them in her dreams), and the feeling of Emily's lips against hers was something that she wanted to keep with her for the rest of her life.

But she'd had to leave, all over again – although she'd been serious, about taking Emily with her. It had been a moment of madness, to even  _ask_ that, but… she was in love and she  _missed_ her and seeing her again,  _touching_  her again after so long, it was… everything she'd never thought she'd have a chance to do ever again.

It had flashed before her, a life where Emily ran away with her. They wouldn't be confined to the area just around Rosewood, either – she'd stuck so close for all of the girls, but for Emily the most. With the brunette at her side she could face the world. They could've gone to Paris, lived their life in the city that had come to mean so much to the both of them, to the idea of the relationship that they may never get the chance to have, could have gotten married, eventually, with the Eiffel Tower looming in the background.

But that was just a fantasy.

One that she longed for with every cell, every nerve and every fibre of her body, that was true, but a fantasy all the same. Emily would never leave with her, couldn't leave her friends and her family behind – she wasn't like Alison, couldn't cut ties so easily, and that's one of the reasons why she loves her.

When she feels Cola start to tire she turns him through a wide circle and heads back the way they came, and she doesn't feel any better than when they'd left but she doesn't feel much worse, either. And Emily still hasn't replied and she doesn't know what that  _means_ and Emily Fields is going to be the death of her or will drive her insane – whichever comes first.

And she knows that, if Paige and Emily are back together, then she has no-one to blame for that other than herself. It's her dishonesty, her complete inability to be open about her feelings, that have led them to this – and yet she knows with a certainty in her heart that, if she could go back in time, she'd probably let things play out exactly the same way because she's still so  _scared_.

Scared of how much Emily means to her, scared of  _having_ her, in her arms once again only to lose her (and a part of her thinks that that is inevitable, because she's Alison DiLaurentis and she's not meant for  _good_ things), because she's sure that will break her. She can barely stand the pain now, after all they'd shared were a handful of kisses – how would she be able to cope with a break up?

But, she wonders as she and Cola emerge through the last of the trees and the sound of his hooves on the ground changes as they reach the concrete of the yard, is fear a good enough reason for her to hold herself back? Is it worth denying herself what she really, truly wants?

Since she was fifteen years old she's lived her life in the shadow of fear (and perhaps even early than that – there were times, with her Mom, that she'd been terrified of what she might do, and once she'd gotten a bloodied face for her insubordination and found herself hiding at Spencer's instead of facing her again), and she's  _tired_. Tired of looking over her shoulder, of jumping at every sound, of being terrified every time she receives a text from an unknown number.

She's so, so tired, and so, so  _sick_  of it all and she hates what her life has become, barely recognizes herself when she looks in the mirror, anymore. And she wants to change, wants it with a desperation like she's never known, but she doesn't know  _how_. Doesn't know how to let go, to  _stop_ being scared because it's all she's ever known for so long.

Her phone rings after she's pulled Cola to a stop outside of his stable, dismounted and untacked him before feeding him some mints she'd hidden in her pocket – and she nearly drops it with shock when she sees that it's Emily calling her.

She'd never expected the brunette to reply, not really, and now that she  _is_ she doesn't know what to do. She'd wanted to know what that kiss had meant, before, but now she's not so sure she wants to know the answer.

But she picks up anyway, pressing the phone to her ear as she slips out of the stable, and she's barely even gotten a hello out of her mouth before Emily is speaking, her voice rough and anger dripping from every word, and Alison wonders how pathetic she is, to smile at the sound of the brunette's voice, even when she's so, so mad at her.

" _What fucking right do you even have to ask me that, Alison?"_

"I don't," she replies simply, shrugging even though she knows Emily can't see her as she heaves out a sigh. "I know I don't."

" _Then why_ did  _you?"_ Emily's voice is almost pleading, and Alison would give anything to know what she's thinking and god, she's  _missed_ her even though it's only been two days and  _when_ had she fallen so in love with this woman?

(She knows, though – even though she hadn't  _realized_ what it was until she'd left Rosewood for what she thought was for good, she'd fallen for Emily long before that.)

"Because I…" She doesn't even have a good reason, all her reasons are selfish (they usually are, but  _especially_ so when it comes to Emily, always have been). "Because I wanted to know."

" _But_ why _?"_ Emily's voice breaks, and Alison shakes her head, and even though she knows why Emily is so reluctant to believe that Alison doesn't care for her in the way she wants (she knows why – it's in the months of rejection, of stringing her along for the sake of it (even though that wasn't what it had been, not truly, but that's what she'd wanted to believe so she'd let Emily think it, too), of pretending that Emily was nothing to her other than something for her to play with when she bored), she's still so  _dense_ , sometimes.

It reminds her of the girl she'd left behind – sweet and innocent and untouched by the darkness that's always hovering around the edges of her, these days – and it makes her smile even as she aches to have that girl back (to have the version of herself that she'd been before she'd left, because even though she's grown in some respects she'd give everything to be so  _young_ and  _carefree_ again), because maybe if they could both go back to that she could make everything  _right_ between them.

But she can't erase the past, and Emily had told her as much the other night, whether she'd  _meant_ to or not, and the brunette's words had haunted her ever since. But she knows she can't fix the present without at least  _trying_ to make amends for what she's done… and they can't have a future without either.

"Because I wanted to know if I'd finally lost whatever slim chance I had with you," she answers Emily, eventually, tearing herself out of her thoughts as she leans her shoulder against the brick of the office wall, tilting her head back and looking up into the sky and wondering absently if it's going to rain.

" _If you think you'd ever lose that then you're more delusional than I thought."_ Emily's voice is quiet, and Alison can't read the emotion behind her words.

"I don't know," she says, her own voice just as soft. "I've done some pretty fucked up stuff. I wouldn't blame you for walking away. No-one would."

" _I could never walk away from you."_ Alison's eyes flutter closed as she feels tears forming, but she refuses to let them fall.  _"Even if I wish I could."_

"I'm sorry."

" _You keep saying that."_

"Because I  _am_." Her voice breaks, and for a long time Emily doesn't answer her – she stands and she listens to the rhythmic sound of the brunette's breathing and wonders if they're on the cusp of something new, or if she's going to be left disappointed all over again.

" _I… I know."_ When Emily finally speaks her voice is steady, and Alison's eyes fly open because she's spent so long apologizing for all her past mistakes but being told that she can't  _fix_ anything by saying it that she's taken aback by the fact that Emily's actually  _accepting_ it.  _"That doesn't make it okay,"_ the brunette points out quickly.  _"But I know you are. And I know that being stubborn about it isn't going to get us anywhere. So you can stop saying sorry now, okay?"_

"But –"

" _No buts, Ali, I swear to God."_ Her heart stutters at the use of her old nickname, because she's sure Emily hasn't called her that ever since she'd found the photos of her and Noel.  _"And to answer your original question… No. There's nothing between me and Paige. Not anymore."_

"Okay." She says it even though it's not – she wants an explanation for that kiss, but she has no right to demand one and she knows she won't get anywhere with Emily if she does so she bites her tongue.

" _What?"_ Emily asks, and apparently she hasn't been quite as controlled as she'd thought.  _"Do you not believe me or something? Why did you even ask me so out of the blue, anyway?"_

"I…" She knows she can't lie, not anymore – she'd promised herself that she wouldn't, not to Emily. "A sent me a photo of the two of you, kissing. Called it payback."

" _Fucking…"_ Emily trails off, and Alison kind of wishes she could see the look on the brunette's face.  _"She kissed me. And I told her I couldn't, that's all."_

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," she replies, softly, even as relief washes through her because that kiss didn't  _mean_ anything and she still has a  _chance._ Well. Sort of. If she can fix things between them.

" _I know. But I'm sick of secrets and I'm sick of lies – and I know I don't really have a right to say that because I'm guilty of them both but I… I_ hate  _A for doing this to us."_ There's a vehemence, a rage, in the brunette's voice that sends a chill down Alison's spine because this isn't  _her_ Emily, this isn't who she  _knows_ , and  _she's_ supposed to be the bitter and twisted and angry one, and she vows to take A down if, for nothing else, what they've turned them all into.  _"And for meddling."_

"Would you have kept it from me?" She asks, because she's curious.

" _I don't know. Probably. It's not like I was planning on calling you up to say 'hey, Ali, guess who kissed me today?' Something tells me you probably wouldn't take very well to that."_

"Probably not," she agrees, and they're almost joking around and it's… she'd been so sure that she'd ruined things between them that she barely even knows how to  _process_ this, when a part of her had thought that they'd never get back to this. "So you're really done with her?"

She hates that she needs to reassurance, but she  _does_ , needs to hear Emily to say it. And a part of her wonders if she should maybe even be  _thanking_ A, for this chance – because they're finally starting to clear the air between them, are having an actual  _conversation_ (maybe not face-to-face – but that's too laden with other things, it's too easy to get lost in emotion or in a gaze or be distracted by wandering eyes and this is just  _easier_ ), are actually  _getting somewhere._

And she knows that, had she not gotten that text, she wouldn't have had the courage to confront Emily about her relationship with her ex-girlfriend (because she knows nothing about why they'd broken up, only that it had been recent and there'd been the lingering doubt, in the back of her mind, that they'd be able to patch things up and Emily would forget all about her), wouldn't have been faced with the possibility of the brunette moving on, of having to watch her be with someone else, and it's the fear of that pushing her on now, because she's been so stupid for far too long and it's time she actually tried to let herself be  _happy_ , for once.

She just hopes it's not too late.

" _Paige and I were done the night I found out that you were alive. I mean, not really. But… I could only move on because I thought you were gone. But then… you weren't."_ She sighs, softly, and Alison's heart breaks for her because she's turned Emily's word upside down so many times and she doesn't deserve  _any_ of it.  _"And everything changed. I know no-one told you why were broke up, but it was because of you. She told the police that you were alive when I asked her not._ Begged  _her not to, in-case it put you in danger. And that was when… I realized that I wasn't over you. She was just trying to help me, but I couldn't see past that because all I could think about was you."_

Alison's throat feels tight, because she'd had  _no idea_. She feels a flicker of anger at Paige for giving her up, but she pushes it away, because wouldn't she have done the same, in her position? Because she'd do anything to keep Emily safe, no matter the cost.

"What… what does this mean? For us?" Her voice is small, her words halting, because a part of her is terrified of the answer, and she feels like she's standing on a precipice, about to plunge over the edge with no idea if she'll be able to survive the fall or not.

" _I don't know_." Emily sounds just as uncertain as she feels.  _"There's still so much… I told you that I know that you're sorry. But there's a part of me that still doesn't know how to forgive you. Or how to trust you again. If I ever did at all."_

Alison winces at the brunette's words, even though she appreciates the honesty – if they're going to do this then she supposes that she'd better get used to it, after all. "Okay," she forces herself to say, sounds more confident than she feels. "Then I'll just have to prove that you can trust me again."

And there's a plan formulating, in the back of her mind that might help her do just that. She knows it's going to take a lot, maybe more than she  _can_ do, but she has to  _try_ , couldn't live with herself if she didn't.

They say their goodbyes and Alison calls her Dad to pick her up, spends the time it takes for him to drive feeding mints to the horses she hasn't seen yet, her mind running wild with ideas. By the time she gets home she knows what she's going to do, thinks that maybe she can  _tell_ , if not  _show_ , Emily, how much she's always meant to her, then she (they) might have a chance.

So when she gets to her room she pulls out a notebook that she hasn't touched since before she disappeared, and she starts to write.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick one to say that I've managed to make some headway with this story over the last week, enough to promise (at least for the next few chapters!) regular updates, probably every Sunday or Monday :) And thank you for the continued support of this story!

When she opens her locker up at school on Monday morning and a white envelope falls out of it with her name written on the back, Emily nearly has a heart attack.

She has to  _force_ herself to bend down and pick it up, and her hands tremble as she does, a part of her filled with terror at what she might find within (because who else could it be but A, and what do they want  _now_? Haven't they already meddled with her enough, lately?), before she recognises the elegant writing and breathes out a quiet sigh of relief.

Because only Alison writes like that, like Emily's name is a work of art, and she's the only person that Emily knows that still draws hearts over their 'i's' and she and Alison had used to exchange letters all the time (she said it was 'more romantic' than a text and Emily would have done anything Alison asked of her, back then), and it takes her back to that simpler time as she traces a finger over the letters of her name.

A part of her is still scared of opening it, not knowing what she's going to find within. She hasn't talked to Alison since that phone call on Saturday where the blonde had actually seemed  _insecure_ about her relationship with Paige and that's… confusing, for her. Because she's spent so long convincing herself that she and Alison would never be together and now Alison's acting like she  _wants_ for them to be something and she still doesn't… she's still struggling to let go of the past and believe that Alison's changed for the better and she can't get  _rid_ of that voice in the back of her mind that's screaming at her that she'd be an idiot to let the blonde back in.

Alison is dangerous, to her, because Emily knows that the blonde could destroy her. If she lets her in again (though she's not really sure she ever really left), she's terrified of what might happen if she loses Alison for good.

But she knows the curiosity of knowing what's in the envelope will eat her alive so she slides her thumb beneath the seam and rips it open, tugging out the letter within and leaning against the locker next to hers as she begins to read it.

_Emily,_

_You said you didn't know how you could ever trust me again, and I don't blame you for that. I know I've hurt you, so, so much, and I know that a lot of what I've done would be unforgivable to most. I'd ask for a second chance but I think you've already given me a dozen and I'm not sure I deserve another._

_But I hope you do._

_For a long time I didn't know how to get you to believe that I was genuine about all the things that I've told you. I spent so long trying to convince the both of us that I never had feelings for you, back then, that I can't blame you for doubting me now._

_So this is me trying to convince you. You and I both know that I'm not good at opening myself up to people. You're the only one I ever let my walls down around, and even then… it was rare. I don't know how to let people in. I never did. But you make me_ want  _to. You make me want to do so many things. To be a better person is one of them._

_I kept a diary because it was the only way I could get things of my chest. It was so much easier to write about them than to_ tell  _anyone. Because a page in a book can never judge you for all the things that you've done._

_There are so many things that I want to tell you. So many things that I kept to myself, over the years. So many things I_ wish  _I'd told you, but never knew how to._

_And maybe I still don't know how to open up and to have an actual adult conversation, face-to-face. But I know how to write. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to write to you, and I know you feel like you never really knew me, or never understood me, and maybe you didn't. But I want you to. Even if that scares the crap out of me, because there are some parts of me that I'm terrified you'll see and it'll make you run a mile and I'll lose you for good._

_But I have to try. Because I know it's the only way that I have a chance. And if you ever want me to stop sending you these, then just tell me and I will._

_You'll get your next letter after second period (unless you don't want it)._

_Until then,_

_Alison._

Emily has to read it three times before the words start to make sense to her, and even then she's still stunned because it's just so  _unexpected_. She hadn't ever actually expected Alison to reach out to her, even after they'd talked at the weekend and she'd asked if she still had a chance.

Because it's always been Emily who's made the first move,  _always_. And she doesn't know how to…  _deal_ with this. But she knows she isn't going to ask Alison to stop, because the blonde's right – she's never understood Alison DiLaurentis and the fact that she might be getting some insight into the blonde's mind makes her impatient for her first two classes to get underway.

She's folding up the letter and carefully sliding it back into the envelope when she turns and nearly walks straight into Hanna. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of her friend, who has her arms folded across her chest with a stern look on her face, and is quick to slide the letter beneath the cover of a textbook in her locker, but Hanna notices it and arches an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," she answers with a shrug, hoping she sounds nonchalant. "Just a notice from the swim team asking me to help coach later." She slams the door of her locker shut before Hanna can investigate further, and though the blonde doesn't press Emily, she knows Hanna doesn't believe her for a second.

"You've been avoiding me," she says instead, and Emily feels a flash of guilt because she  _has_ and she feels  _awful_ about it but she'd just… needed a couple of days to herself, to process things.

And avoid the temptation of drinking.

_And_ avoid the blonde's judgement of… whatever was happening with Alison, because Emily knew that she would, in no way, approve.

"I –"

"Don't even," Hanna cuts her off with a wave of her hand. "You have. I called you like ten times yesterday and you never picked up. It was only at the risk of looking like a stalker that I didn't barge into your house and drag your sorry ass out of bed. So what's up? And don't say nothing."

"I just… needed some time to think some things over, that's all."

"Hmm. Alison things?" There's a knowing look on the blonde's face and really, Hanna knows her all too well. "Because I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me about her." Hanna links their arms together and leads Emily off down the hall to her own locker, pausing when they get there to pull out a textbook. "Even if I do think she's a bitch."

"Hanna," she says with a roll of her eyes.

"Whoops, I'm sorry, did I say that out loud?" Emily just levels her friend with a look, and the blonde lets out a huff. "Sorry. She just brings out the worst in me."

"In all of us, sometimes."

"I don't know," Hanna says softly, eyes appraising Emily carefully. "I think sometimes she brings out the best in you. Much as it pains me to say it." Emily rolls her eyes once again and Hanna grins. "Seriously, though. You can talk to me about her if you need to. Like about what went down between the two of you the night she found us wasted in the park and dragged you home…?"

"I know. And if I  _remembered_ I'd tell you." Hanna looks like she's waiting for Emily to say more and pouts when she doesn't, but the brunette pretends to ignore her – she's not ready to tell her about this weekend, not yet. Not until she can straighten out her own feelings about it all.

"Okay, well, if  _you're_ not going to talk about your love life then let's talk about mine." They start to head towards their first class of the day with their arms still linked, slide into their seats at the back as they wait for the other two girls to arrive. "I talked to Caleb this weekend."

"And?"

"He told me some stuff. About Ravenswood. Some… really, really  _weird_ stuff." Emily raises an eyebrow, curious, but Hanna just shakes her head. " _So_ not getting into it. But… now I don't know what to think. He says he wants to try again but I… what if things go wrong again? What if he  _leaves_ me again?"

Sometimes Emily gets so wrapped up in her own problems that she almost forgets that her friends have them, too, and she feels that guilt for avoiding the blonde's calls rise up in her again, because Hanna is hurt too and she needs to be there for her –  _all_ of them should be there for each other. She feels like since Alison came back they've started to drift apart, her so wrapped up in the blonde that everything else almost seemed to fall away; Hanna struggling so much with who she  _is_ ; Spencer's family life falling apart around her and now Aria's is, too, and Emily can scarcely remember a time when the four of them had had an evening together without worrying about A, just trying to be  _normal_ teenagers, for once.

Sometimes she wonders when her childhood had slipped away from her and thrust her into a world where she had more worries than she could count, haunted by a ghost (because that's what A felt like, most of the time – untraceable and invisible, always hovering in the periphery), and trapped in a web of lies.

"You can't ruin your chance at happiness out of fear," Emily says gently, and then wonders when she'd turned into such a hypocrite – Hanna gives her a knowing look and she swallows, hard. "We're not talking about me," she says hastily. "We're talking about you. Caleb loves you. And he shouldn't have left, and he shouldn't have kept things from you, and it's not okay that he did but… You still care about him, Han, it's obvious. You're hurting yourself more by trying to stay away from him."

"Are we still talking about me?"

"If he cleans up his act," Emily continues, pointedly ignoring the blonde's comment. "Stops the drinking and gets some help with  _whatever's_ bothering him, then," she shrugs. "You should at least try. And if doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out."

"You'll be here to pick up the pieces?"

"Always," she promises, covering the blonde's hand, on her desk, with her own and squeezing gently. "You deserve to be happy."

"So do you. And I wish… I wish that you weren't still so hung up on Alison because you know I think she's bad news. But if… if she's who you decide you want to be with, if you want to give her a second chance… then I'm not going to stand in the way."

"Thank you," she murmurs softly, because she knows it's a huge thing for Hanna to say, and she's so, so grateful to have someone like Hanna in her life and if there's anything that she should be grateful to Alison for, it's for bringing them together, all of them, if nothing else.

She's not sure how she would have survived the past few years if not for her friends.

"Why do I feel like we're interrupting a heart-to-heart?" Spencer asks as she slips into her seat in-front of Emily, sitting sideways on the chair and resting her chin on the back of it. Aria is with her, sits beside her and offers Emily and Hanna a tentative smile – the brunette had heard that they'd patched things up yesterday, after the whole Zach fiasco, but she was sure things would be a little strained between them for a little whole yet.

"Because you are?" Hanna replies, and Emily is momentarily distracted as Paige walks into the room – the brunette's eyes meet Emily's for a brief second before darting away and Emily feels a pang in her chest because she knows Paige is hurting and she hates that she's the cause of it, even though she knows it's not her fault because she can't change the way she feels.

"About what?" She hears Aria ask, and she forces her gaze away from her ex-girlfriend as Paige chooses a seat near the front, as far away from Emily as she can probably get.

"Caleb." Emily's relieved that the blonde doesn't mention Alison, because she's not ready to talk about it yet, to anyone. "We might be getting back together."

"I'm happy for you, Han." Aria's smile is genuine but Hanna's is strained, and Emily can't imagine what it must have been like for her, to have Aria not believe her, and she wonders if the effort the blonde's made to  _not_ have a hangover today has something to do with the brunette's comments.

"Are we going to talk about the tension between Em and Paige, now?" Emily's eyes meet Spencer's as the other brunette speaks, and she curses her friend's observant gaze. "Did something happen between you two?"

"I…" She considers lying, for a brief second, but then dismisses the thought – she's been surrounded by lies for too long, hates doing it to her friends. "She kissed me. I told her nothing was going to happen. It was… awkward."

"I can imagine." Spencer's watching her carefully. "And would any of that have to do with Alison, by any chance?"

"Why? If it's to lecture me about the hundred reasons why I shouldn't trust her then thanks, but I already got the memo."

"Yeah, I already took care of that," Hanna supplies helpfully.

"I was just wondering. No plans for a lecture. I think she has changed, or she's at least  _trying_ to but… she's still Alison. So just… be careful, okay?"

"I'll try." It's the best she can promise, because she's always been careful but Alison makes her reckless, Alison can completely derail her with a single glance, and she's never known  _how_ to be guarded around her.

She's relieved when their teacher walks into the room and calls for their attention, meaning the topic of Alison is dropped. But she can barely concentrate as he drones on, because all she can think about now that Hanna's not distracting her is the thought of what she's going to find in her locker at the end of second period, and really, this class couldn't end soon enough.

x-x-x

_Emily,_

_I didn't even know where to start, so I thought I'd go from the beginning. The first time I ever laid eyes on you, I knew you'd be special – I just didn't know_ how  _special. It was the summer before we started high school, and you crashed into me in the street and you looked so_ terrified  _that I was going to scream at you that I thought it was adorable._

_And I knew then that I_ had  _to get to know you._

_That whole summer, with you and the other girls… It was the best I ever had. The four of you… you made me feel like I had something to live for. CeCe… she and I were close, ever since we were kids but she… she wasn't_ good  _for me. She got me into trouble and sometimes I feel like I grew up way too fast because she was so much older than me. She'd drag me to parties and I fooled around with the wrong people and I got involved with bad guys and I did so much messed up stuff with her at my side._

_But you… you showed me that there's more to life than that, even if you never even knew it. You and Aria and Hanna and Spencer, you'll never know how important you are to me. I left Rosewood but I couldn't go far because the thought of leaving you hurt me too much. I came back and I risked myself because I couldn't stay away._

_Sometimes I think you'd have all been better off if you hadn't met me. But then I wonder how fucked up I would've turned out if I never knew the four of you. I don't even know if I'd still be alive._

_I guess what I'm trying to say is… you're my light, Em. You make me_ better _. And you make me want to_ be  _better, because you deserve that and do much more. I can only hope that it's not too late for me to try._

Emily rushed to her locker as soon as second period was over and reads the note in the back of her third class of the day, absorbing every word. It's…  _odd_ , to have so much insight into the mind of the woman who had been such an enigma to her for so long.

Odd and yet exhilarating, because she's never been able to read Alison, not  _really_ , and to have the chance… it means so much. There are so many questions about their past that she's never gotten an answer to – she'd never known if Alison was genuine, those times where the blonde had seemed so vulnerable, never known if she ever actually meant anything to her or if she was just reading into things too much, mind clouded by her own feelings.

She'd never known what was holding Alison back, if she  _was_ genuine. The blonde said that Emily was the hardest one to leave behind, but she'd never told her  _why_. She'd never told her how she could turn her back if she cared (because Emily doesn't know how she could do it, if their situation was reversed, can't imagine the thought of leaving Alison behind, of letting the blonde think that something awful had happened to her), or why she'd never given them a chance.

And the thought that she might get to learn that means more to her than she'll ever be able to put into words. She's spent so long pining after a girl she thought she'd never have, only for her to come back in a whirlwind claiming that she'd wanted Emily all along – and Emily doesn't know how to believe her when Alison's guarded her feelings so well for so long.

Her heart has always been Alison's, and the blonde still holds it now, in the palm of her hands, and Emily thinks if she can just get some  _closure_ , about the past three years, then she can move on and let it go and they can actually try to be happy and she… she wants that more than she's ever wanted anything.

She can barely concentrate on that class, mind too preoccupied with Alison's words (she keeps re-reading the note over and over until she's pretty sure she can recite it, word-for-word), and when the bell rings signalling the end she hurries down the hall and into her next period, because she shares it with a certain blonde that she hadn't realized until that moment she was desperate to see.

Alison is one of the last ones through the door, and before she takes her seat her eyes seek out Emily's from across the room, and there's a vulnerability in her gaze that Emily doesn't think she's ever seen before.

She doesn't know what makes her reach for her phone and type out the five words – only that when she presses send and sees Alison glance at her own phone a moment later, the smile that crosses the blonde's face fills her with a warmth that makes her think, for the first time since Alison had come back to town, that they might be okay.

_It'll never be too late._

x-x-x

She finds the third note after she's finished at swim practice.

She'd be cornered at lunch by the coach and asked if she'd like an official position as assistant coach and had accepted in a heartbeat – swimming had become such an important part of her that she knew she couldn't turn it down, that she could at least feel like she was  _achieving_ something, even if it wasn't by setting a personal best at a swim meet.

And it gave her something to pour her focus into, instead of finding herself falling into the bottom of a bottle. It gave her a  _purpose_ , something to work towards, something that she hadn't even realized she'd needed until she'd been on the side of the pool, spurring on her girls to be the best that they could be.

It was a little odd, considering Paige was on the team. And she'd told the brunette that if it would be too awkward or too difficult that she'd turn it down, because Paige was hurting because of her and she still cared about her, even if she no longer loved her. But her ex had assured her with a pained smile and a hand on her arm that she should take the position, that they'd be okay, in time.

So there's a spring in her step when she reaches her locker at five p.m., feeling a buzz that she'd thought she'd lost forever, but she pauses when she sees the envelope lying on the floor, thinking it's odd that Alison wouldn't have left it inside her locker like she had with the others.

And it's definitely for her, her name in Ali's handwriting across the back, and she pushes away her confusion as she tears it open gently and starts to read…

_The first time you kissed me I replayed it over and over because I could barely believe it was real. I already knew how you felt about me – had always known, really – but I… I never thought you'd_ do  _anything about it and when you did… I didn't know what to do._

_I think about that day a lot. Every time I see something to do with Dickens it reminds me – you by my side, the way the sunlight made your eyes glow golden, the feeling of my fingers in your hair…_

_I was so scared, Em. Of how much you meant to me, of what that kiss made me feel. I'm still scared. Terrified, even, because you're still the only thing I see when I close my eyes. You always where, even when I tried so hard to push you away._

_Pip gets Estella in the end… I don't know who I was trying to convince more, you or me._

Emily, too, remembers that day in perfect clarity. Being blinded by Alison's words, wanting so desperately to believe they were true – she'd taken them as a signal, kissed her before she could talk herself out of it, and she doesn't regret it.

She  _had_ , for a while. She'd been terrified, after Alison didn't say anything when she pulled away, that she'd ruined things. But then the blonde hadn't brought it up again (though there were more kisses, traded behind closed doors, some lasting much, much longer than others), and she'd decided that she shouldn't regret knowing what it felt like to have Alison's lips against hers, knowing how soft and delicate and  _perfect_ they felt, moving with her own.

She slides the note into the cover of her Chemistry textbook, along with the other two, for safe-keeping, as she gathers that and the couple of other books she needs for her homework and slides them into her bag, shutting her locker door and heading for the exit, looking forward to getting home.

She's halfway there when she hears a muffled noise and stops, senses on high alert, immediately seeking out a threat, all her muscles tensing as she turns slowly to see if there's someone following her, and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she doesn't see a black hoodie or a red coat anywhere in her periphery.

Deciding she must have imagined it she starts forward once more – only to stop when she hears it again, louder this time. It sounds like someone pounding on a door, followed by the muffled sound of a voice calling out, and despite every thought in her mind screaming at her to just turn around and  _leave_ she just… can't.

Because if someone needs help she's not someone who could ignore it and live with herself, but she still treads carefully as she heads towards where the noise is coming from, turning down a hallway and then pausing until it echoes again. When it does she  _sees_ the door, this time – a janitor's closet – shuddering as it's hit from within, and when she tries the handle she's unsurprised to find that it's locked.

"I'm going to get help," she promises whoever's stuck inside. "I'll be right back, I swear." Ella Montgomery's classroom is just down the hall – she sprints to the door and when the woman glances up at her in surprise she explains what's happened in a single rushed breath and she grabs her keys and follows Emily without question, concern written all over her face.

There's a knot of tension in Emily's stomach as she watches her friends' Mom try to find the right key, wondering whose idea of a prank was to lock someone away and leave them for the night and feels sick at the thought.

When the lock finally clicks open and Ella breathes out a small cry of triumph, she pushes the door open gently. It's dark inside, and when the room is illuminated by the light from the hall Emily sees that the lightbulb swinging from the ceiling has been broken – and then her view disappears as a body flings itself in her arms, and Emily gets a faceful of blonde hair as she stumbles, her arms wrapping around the shaking girl's waist as she's surrounded by the scent of a familiar perfume, and her shock turns to horror as she realizes who she's holding.

"Ali?"


	8. Chapter Eight

She's such an  _idiot_.

She should have been more careful, should have been on her guard at all times, every moment that she's walking through the halls of Rosewood High. But she'd been so preoccupied with slipping her final note of the day into Emily's locker before the brunette reached it that she hadn't heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind her until it was too late.

She doesn't know how long she'd been trapped in the room for, but it feels like an age, and when she's finally released all she can do is cling to Emily, her hands bunched into fists in the material of the brunette's shirt, her head pressed into the crook of her neck, breathing her in as she tries to stop the shaking that racks through her whole body, muffling the sound of her sobs against Emily's skin.

She never used to be afraid of the dark.

She never used to be afraid of anything.

But that had changed when she'd been stalked by a faceless figure – Mona, she knows, now, and she  _hates_ her with a vehemence that scares her, the woman who had driven her out of town and was still trying to make her life a living hell.

Because she'd heard the sound of Mona's laughter as she'd been shoved into the janitor's closet, as the lock had clicked behind her. And the brunette had shattered the light within,  _knew_ Alison's greatest fear, even now, and she  _hates_ her for it, even as she knows that, at least in part, she'd had a hand in twisting Mona into what she is today.

She never used to be afraid of the dark – until she was buried alive. For weeks, months after, she could barely sleep, because whenever she closed her eyes she felt like she was back in that grave again, dirt all over her, clogging in her throat until she could barely breathe, was sure she would suffocate, killed by her own mother who loved someone else enough to cover up her own daughter's 'murder'.

Still, two years later, she can scarcely sleep without a light on. When she'd been on the run she'd had a torch, clutched it in her hands as she slept so hard some nights that when she woke up she could barely move her fingers without blinding pain – but the light had grounded her, because with it, despite the nightmares that haunted her dreams, she knew that she wasn't back there. She was alive, and she wasn't underground, and she could  _breathe_.

And Mona knew about her deepest, darkest fear – the one that she'd never told a single soul about – and used it against her. Standing in that closet, beating at the door until her hands bled, she was back six feet underground with dirt piling in-top of her and it's been so long and she'd pushed that night so deep down that it's only now she wonders if she ever really got over it at all.

"Alison?" Emily's saying her name, sounding more scared than the blonde has ever heard her, but she doesn't know how to speak, can only hold onto her tighter and be relieved that she hasn't been shoved away.

"Alison can you tell me what happened?" She'd forgotten that they weren't alone, that Emily must have gotten the keys from a teacher, and the sound of Ella Montgomery's voice sobers her – a little. She bites her lip and forces herself to take a step away from Emily, but the brunette's hands stop her, firm at her waist. "Who did this to you?"

"I… It was just a stupid prank." She tries to force a smile as she finds her voice, but she knows she's a mess, her face tear-stained and her eyes red, face probably blotchy and when she releases her hold on Emily to glance at her hands she winces.

A gasp rattles through Emily's teeth as she notices, too, and Alison is too slow to hide them – the brunette's hands grasp her wrists gently, and there's a dark anger in her gaze as her jaw clenches. "Who did this?" Her voice is rough, and Alison has never seen her filled with such fury and it takes her aback.

"I didn't see them," she lies, because she doesn't want to risk Mona's wrath if she tells Ella, and she hates the stern disapproval that's written over Emily's face. "They just pushed me in. But it's fine. I'm fine."

Mrs Montgomery doesn't look convinced – she purses her lips as Alison meets her gaze and she knows hers is pleading because she just wants to go  _home_ , can feel humiliation rippling through her because she's a wreck and she doesn't want anyone to  _see_ her like this.

"If you're sure…"

"I am. Really."

"Emily, can you make sure she gets home safe?" The brunette nods and Ella turns to leave, heading back down the hall, and there's still a glower in Emily's eyes but it softens as she meets Alison's gaze.

"I need to get cleaned up," she murmurs even though she really doesn't want to look in the mirror and see the state she's in, but she knows she has to, sooner rather than later. Emily trails behind her as she heads for the nearest bathroom, leans with her hip against the sink beside her when they're inside it, as Alison grimaces at her reflection. She splashes water on her face and hisses as it runs over her grazed hands, more tears springing into her eyes at the pain.

"Let me see," Emily demands softly, taking the blonde's hands in her own before Alison can protest, and she shakes her head when she sees the state of them. "How long were you in there for?" Emily's voice shakes slightly, and Alison knows it's from barely-contained rage.

"I don't know… They pushed me in after I finished last period."

"So over an hour." A muscle twitches in the brunette's cheek and Alison wonders if  _she_ should be angrier about this whole thing, but mostly she's just relieved to be out of there and into the  _light_. "Who did it? And don't tell me you don't know because I know you were lying before."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to  _me_." Emily's still got a hold of her wrists, her fingers warm, and every so often she brushes her thumbs lightly against Alison's skin and the blonde wants to tremble beneath the gentle touch, acutely aware that the last time she and Emily had been so close they'd kissed. "Was it Mona?" Alison doesn't answer and the brunette's eyes flash. "It was, wasn't it?"

"And an evil minion or two."

"But why?"

"Because I'm evil incarnate? Because I dared to come back here after she drove me away? Because she apparently hasn't tortured me enough? God, I wish I'd slapped her harder that night."

"Ali," Emily says, disapproval in her tone, and the blonde rolls her eyes.

"Joking. Well. Not really. She deserved it, you know. That video wasn't… She hit me first. And maybe that doesn't justify me retaliating but… you know me. I lash out. And I know I hurt her, I  _know_ that, but I don't…. That's the  _past_ and I'm  _sorry_ about what I did to her but does that justify all of the things that she's done because of it?"

Emily's eyes are dark as they rest on her face, appraising her, and Alison wonders if it would have been better to keep her mouth shut – but she holds too much of a lingering resentment for that, because if not for Mona and that  _stupid_ video of that slap, she and Emily might have been okay, for a little while, after that night in her room.

Then again, maybe not, considering all that had happened since. But still, a girl could dream.

"No, it doesn't justify it. I don't think there's  _anything_ that can justify what she did, to any of us."

"Then why did you believe her over me?" She practically begs, vulnerability written all over her because it had hurt, Emily choosing to believe Mona's side of the story (video evidence be dammed – surely with all the manipulating of technology Mona has done over the years it wouldn't be that hard to believe that she could edit a video to her advantage), that Emily would choose someone else over her.

It hurt because it had never happened before. Emily was her rock, her safe place – the one person she could count on, no matter what. And she'd manipulated that as much as she could, back when she'd been too stupid to realize the damage she caused, and Emily's refusal to let it happen again was just yet another reminder of all the ways they'd both changed.

"I don't… Honestly?" Alison nods, captivated by Emily's eyes, finally feeling her pounding heartbeat begin to slow, finally feel like she can breathe again, grounded by the soft touch of Emily's fingertips against her skin. "There was a part of me… after that night, after letting you in, that was… terrified in-case it all turned out to be a lie. Because I didn't know if I could survive it. So I… at the first warning sign that you might not have changed after all I… ran."

"Are you going to keep running?" Her voice trembles as she speaks and Emily watches her with unreadable eyes. "Because you ran after Mona and you ran after Noel – and I can understand the reasons why you did, and I  _do_ understand and I'm not blaming you – but I don't think I can live through it happening again. So if you are… if you think, the next time you think I'm lying to you or keeping things from you, that you'll run instead of asking me about it then I don't… I don't think I can do this, Emily. I don't think I can survive seeing you walk away from me again."

She knows that a part of her is being unfair, because she's walked away from Emily more than once, in the worst possible way – but that's behind her now. She doesn't think she  _could_ leave again, even to save her own skin. She's in too deep and she's fallen too far and there's no going back from any of it now.

"I can't promise you anything," Emily finally speaks, her voice raw and Alison's eyes fall closed in defeat. "You terrify me, Ali." The brunette releases one of her hands from her own and instead cups the side of her face, a thumb sliding across her cheek and it makes her breath catch in the back of her throat. "I'm terrified of letting you in, and I know you're not the girl that broke my heart anymore, I  _know_ that. But I can't… I can't let go of it. Not yet. And until I do I'm not promising you anything because if I broke it I wouldn't know how to live with myself. But I'm  _trying_. I'm trying and you're trying and maybe together we can actually make this work."

When Emily kisses her, Alison's startled, not expecting it, but then she melts into the brunette, because this kiss is unlike the others they've shared recently, hot and messy and  _desperate_  – this is gentle and chaste and  _loving_  and the sweetness of it surprises her.

It's over just as quickly as it began, Emily pulling away and resting their foreheads together, her breath ghosting across Alison's lips and the blonde doesn't want to move, doesn't want to ruin the moment – but her mouth opens before she can stop it.

"What was that?"

"That was…" Alison braces, fully prepared for the word 'mistake' to tumble from Emily's mouth. "I don't know. I just had to."

"Better than a promise," Alison says, softly, and she can't help but lean up on her tiptoes to steal another brief kiss from the brunette's lips because she doesn't know when she'll get the chance again, and when she pulls away she takes a step back, putting some distance between them because she doesn't want to get carried away because she knows they still have a long road to walk before they make any progress and she doesn't want to move too fast too quickly.

"This doesn't… This doesn't mean that…"

"We still have a long way to go," Alison cuts her off, and for the first time since the closet door had open her smile isn't forced. "I know."

"We need to clean up your hands."

"I can do it at home, I have bandages and stuff there."

"Let's go, then." Emily nods her head towards the door and Alison just stares at her for a moment, because though the brunette had told Ella she'd get her home safely, Alison had never really expected her to. "If you think I'm leaving you alone after what happened, then you really don't know me at all. Now come on."

x-x-x

Pepe's there to greet them when they get home, wagging his tail furiously and pressing himself against both their legs as soon as they're through the front door, whining happily. He glues himself to Emily's side as they make their way inside, and Alison can't help but smile softly at the sight of them.

"Sit," the brunette demands as soon as they're in the living room, hands on Alison's shoulders as she pushes the blonde down onto the couch. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"Bathroom upstairs."

"Don't move," Emily warns her as she heads for the stairs, and Alison rolls her eyes but stays put, a part of her getting a thrill out of the brunette taking care of her. Pepe jumps up beside her and lays his head on her lap and she rubs behind his ears gently.

Emily returns with a box full of first aid supplies and a bowl full of water, and she kneels beside the blonde and examines her hands once more before setting about cleaning them up, dipping a cloth into the water and wiping the dried blood away as carefully as she can, but Alison still winces in pain, and she's half-worried that she might have broken something.

"Can I ask you something?" Emily murmurs as she's wrapping a bandage around the blonde's right hand, ripping off some tape with her teeth and securing it in place, a tiny frown of concentration between her eyebrows that Alison finds adorable. "Why did it freak you out so much? I mean, I know it can't have been fun but… I don't think I've ever seen you so scared."

"I don't like the dark." Emily finishes her other hand and she wraps her arms around herself as the brunette looks up at her. "And I don't like enclosed spaces." She shivers as the memory of some of her earlier terror comes back to her, and Pepe snuggles further into her side as if he can sense her discomfort. "Being buried alive kinda does that to you." She tries a smile but she's sure it looks more like a grimace, and the first time she'd ever talked about that night had been with the four girls in New York and she doesn't know if she can put herself through it again.

"Ali…"

"Don't. I don't want to talk about it, not again. I… I can't."

"You can't just ignore it and hope it goes away." Emily's voice is gentle, her eyes earnest and she's still on her knees in-front of Alison's legs and she's half-tempted to grab her and kiss her like Emily had done to her when she'd been drunk the other night, just to get her to stop talking. "It's been over two years, it's no –"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was a timeline for getting over being buried alive by your own mother," she snaps at the brunette, her voice low with anger but Emily doesn't even flinch, just purses her lips and meets her gaze steadily.

"I didn't  _say_ that, Alison." There's a part of her that wants to lash out, that wants to cut Emily down with words to get her to shut up, because she's revisited that night enough times before to last a lifetime, hates the fact that it can still paralyze with her fear. "But I do think it'd help you to talk about it. If not with me, then –"

"What, a therapist?" She cuts off the brunette, frustrating etched into her words. "Fat lot of good that would do me, considering I could never tell them the truth. You want me to talk about being buried alive? Okay." Emily's mouth opens to cut her off but she talks right over the brunette, knowing that if she pauses to take a breath that the words will stick in her throat and she'll never be able to force them out. "It was the worst night of my life. When I woke up in that grave… I couldn't  _move_  because the pain in my head was that bad. I couldn't do  _anything_ except watch my  _mother_ pile earth on-top of me.

"I couldn't speak. I thought I was paralyzed, that I was going to die in a hole in the ground and no-one would ever know. And the dirt… I can still remember the feeling of it, all over my skin. The  _smell_ of it, as it covered me, with every breath that I took. The way it stuck in the back of my throat. There's no worse way to die, than suffocating six feet underground, chilled to the bone, knowing that if you could just move, just a little, then none of this would be happening to you.

"And then when I could move… do you have any idea what it's like, to try and claw your way out of a grave? With no idea how close you are to the top? To feel yourself get a little dizzier, a little weaker, with every breath you take, and wonder how many more you have before you die?

"Because I do. I relived it a thousand times whenever I closed my eyes. I can't stand the dark because it takes me back to that night and I feel like I can't breathe. The first time I ended up alone in a dark room when I was away I had a panic attack so bad that I fainted. I still can't sleep without a light on. And Mona… she  _knew_ that. She knew exactly how to derail me. And A… A knew that trying to strangle me would hurt the most. And between the two of them knowing all my weaknesses I don't know how I'm going to live through whatever they have planned for me. Because I know it's something. There  _must_  be something. Mona spent so much effort trying to send me running away, and A so much on trying to get me back and I'm so scared all the time, Emily. I thought that with Shana gone I could finally… I could finally live my life without jumping at every little noise or looking over my shoulder at every turn but it's even worse now than it was before and I don't… I don't want to be  _scared_ anymore."

Emily's looking at her with a mixture of horror and sympathy that Alison didn't ask for, and she regrets letting so much slip – she's always so careful, to keep her emotions close to her chest, because as soon as you exposed them you were vulnerable, open to attack, and she has to remind herself, as she takes a deep breath, that Emily's not out to get her.

That Emily might be the only thing that can get her through this alive.

"Are you happy, now?" She prompts when the brunette doesn't speak, and she folds her arms across her chest as if they could protect her from the weight of her honesty.

"I wish you'd told me that sooner."

"Why? Because you could help me with it so well?" Her voice is abrasive, because she's let her walls down too far and she doesn't  _like_ it, doesn't like being so raw and open, isn't used to being so  _honest_ and a part of her feels like she has to push Emily away over it even as the rest of her is curing her for her stupidity.

"No." Emily heaves a frustrated sigh from between gritted teeth but doesn't take Alison's bait. "Because if you keep pushing things down so far in an effort not to feel them then it'll only hurt you worse, in the end."

"How would  _you_  know?" She snaps, speaking without even thinking – and as soon as the words are out of her mouth she regrets them, wants to take them all back because Emily has been through so  _much_ and she doesn't need Alison to remind her of it all.

"I thought you were dead, Alison," the brunette reminds her, none-to-gently, an edge to her words. "I thought I'd lost my first love and my best friend all in one go. And then I finally moved on and I fell in love again… and she died. I knew something was going on with her and I couldn't… I couldn't save her. And then her murderer came after me and my  _new_ girlfriend and I… I killed him."

"Em, I didn't –"

"Didn't mean it? Yes, you did." The brunette shoots her a knowing look and Alison wants to cower beneath it. "You want me to try to not run away? Then I want you to try to not lash out at me whenever you actually let yourself be vulnerable around me. Because that's gonna get real old real fast, Ali, and I'm not putting up with it."

She flushes slightly, chagrined that Emily knows her so, so well, but she supposes Emily has the right to ask her for something in return. "I make no promises." She repeats Emily's words from before and watches the brunette's lips twitch as she tries to fight a smile. "And I'm sorry. I'm just… not used to it."

"I know." Emily shifts and rises to her feet, wincing as she straightens out her legs. "Do you have anything to eat around here?"

"I wasn't aware you were staying for dinner," Alison answers coolly, and this time it's the brunette who rolls her eyes.

"I told you, I'm not leaving you alone."

"But I'm fine."

"You're a lot of things, Ali," Emily murmurs back, a serious glint in her brown eyes. "But 'fine' isn't one for them. I'm not going anywhere."

"And if I ask you to leave?"

"I'd go if I knew you really meant it. But I don't think you would." She shrugs, and Alison huffs out a sigh because she knows she's right – she's barely spent any time with Emily since before the brunette had discovered those stupid photos of her and Noel, and she's  _missed_ her.

"But you wouldn't be here if I hadn't been locked in that room. You wouldn't want anything to do with me if not for that."

"Alison." There's frustration in the brunette's voice for the first time that evening, as she puts her hands on her hips and looks at her through narrowed eyes. "If there's  _anything_ that we've established over the last two weeks, I think it's that I'll always 'want something to do with you'. Would I be here right here, right now if not for what happened today? No, probably not. But it  _did_ happen, I  _am_ here, and I'm not going anywhere unless you expressly ask me to leave. I'm not here because I… pity you, or whatever it is you're thinking. If I didn't  _want_ to be here, I wouldn't be, believe me. So are you going to let it go and let me cook you dinner or not?"

"You cook?" That's what she holds on to, out of all the brunette's said (because the rest of it is too dizzying, and she doesn't want to feed the tendrils of hope that have set up camp in her chest, lest this come to nothing, in the end), because Alison distinctly remembers Emily burning  _pasta_ once, before she'd disappeared.

"…I can put ready-done things into the oven for the amount of time it says on the packet."

"How is it," Alison starts as she too, clambers to her feet, heading towards the kitchen with both Emily and Pepe at her heels. "That even after being away from home for three years, I'm still a better cook than you are?"

"I'll believe it when I see it." Emily's tone is teasing, and Alison meets her gaze and can't fight a smile, because this almost feels like a fresh start and she'll grasp at it with both hands and never let go.

"Then sit down," she nods to one of the stools set against the marble breakfast bar in the kitchen. "Watch, and learn."


	9. Chapter Nine

When she woke up that morning, she never would have guessed that her day would have ended up with her in the DiLaurentis' kitchen, watching Alison hovering over the stove with a look of resolute concentration on her face as she juggles several pans at once.

"Are you sure I can't help?" Emily asks for what must be the third time, not liking being idle while the blonde is so preoccupied, but Alison doesn't even look up as she replies.

"Just like all the other times you asked Em, I'm good." Emily would have never pegged Alison as the cooking type, and she's still a little amazed that the blonde is making something  _for_ her, is astounded at the turn her day has taken.

"Well then I'm going to go get my Chem homework."

"Am I not entertaining enough for you?" Alison turns to throw Emily a mock-glare over her shoulder, and the brunette grins, wondering when things had turned so easy-going between them – not that she was complaining. She'd take this over an argument any day.

That wasn't to say all was forgiven. There were still doubts swirling around the back of her mind but… she was actually  _enjoying_ herself. Alison had opened up to her today more times than she could count – probably more times than she ever has before, in all the time that she's known the blonde.

And it's…  _nice_. To have the air cleared between them, to be able to breathe a little easier, to  _not_ have to wonder if Alison's being genuine. Because she hasn't thought that once, since Alison had thrown herself into her arms in the school hallway – not once has she doubted her sincerity, not once has the blonde given her a reason to think that she was hiding something and it's… new and scary but  _good_  and she finds herself feeling more at ease than she has for a long, long time.

"Not right now, no." She teases Alison right back, bites her lip when the blonde scoffs at her before turning her back, leaving Emily to disappear back into the living room and haul her bag into the kitchen.

She spreads her textbooks across the table in-front of her, opens her notebook and sets to work, though she finds it hard to concentrate, her eyes continually wandering to glance at the blonde opposite her, captivated by the sight of her, enjoying the opportunity to let herself  _look_ for once, instead of trying to hide the fact that her gaze couldn't stay away from Alison for long.

"You're staring," Alison murmurs, eventually, as she bends to put the now-assembled lasagne into the oven, and Emily's eyes are unashamedly glued to the blonde's ass.

"Can you blame me?"

"Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I'm liking this view a little more." She catches a glimpse of Alison's smile in the reflection offered by the window and feels an answering one spread across her own face. As the blonde moves over to the sink and the pile of dishes that's been building steadily towards the side of it, she makes a noise of disapproval in the back of her throat. "Leave them. I'll do them later."

"But - "

"No. You cook, I clean. That's how this works." Alison turns to glance at her, stubborn look on her face, but Emily just stares right back, unwavering.

"Fine. But I'm helping."

"We'll see," Emily murmurs under her breath as Alison sets a timer and hops onto the seat opposite her. She shuts the cover of her textbook because if she can barely get any work done while Alison's doing other things she knows there's no hope with the blonde sitting so close.

But she slams it a little too hard and it sends the three notes hiding within skittering across the countertop, and she freezes up, just a little, because the blonde hasn't brought them up so neither has she, and is she supposed to acknowledge them? Or is she supposed to act nonchalant and shove them back into the book without mentioning them?

"I'm sorry, about them." Alison saves her from trying to figure out what to say as she nods towards the notes as Emily reaches for them. "I know you'd probably prefer it if I told you things face-to-face but I…"

"Hey, you don't have to be sorry." She curls a hand around the back of Alison's, carefully avoiding the bandages across the back of them (and she's still not quite gotten a hold of her earlier rage at finding Alison in such a state, feels it rear up again whenever she catches a glimpse of the gauze and she's  _furious_ that Mona would do this to her), and squeezes gently. "I know it's hard for you to open up to people. If this is what's easier for you then that's fine. It's enough for me just to know that you're trying."

"So you don't think that it's really stupid?"

"Actually I think it's sweet." Alison's eyes had been glued to the marble counter, but at Emily's words she lifts her head, a shy smile on her face that widens when her eyes meet the brunette's. "Who would've guessed that Alison DiLaurentis was a romantic at heart?"

"I'm full of surprises."

"I bet." The air between them suddenly seems charged, and Emily is hyper-aware of the feeling of Alison's skin beneath her fingertips. She sees the blonde's eyes dip to her lips and then back up again and her breath hitches and she remembers the two kisses from before vividly, swears she can still feel Alison's lips against hers.

But she's terrified of messing this up, of moving too fast, because Alison means everything to her and she doesn't want to ruin their chance by skipping steps, and if she kisses the blonde right now she knows it will be hell to stop, so she snatches her hand away from Alison's and takes a deep breath and tells herself to gain some self-control.

Fast.

"So, you got any more letters for me?" She asks when she feels like she can speak without her voice being strained, mind overrun with the thought of grabbing a fistful of Alison's white shirt and yanking her forward, of running her hands through blonde hair and kissing Alison until neither of them could breathe.

"All in due time," Alison replies with a mysterious smile, and Emily pouts and the blonde laughs. "If I gave you them all in one go it'd ruin the mystery, wouldn't it?"

"The sooner the better." Emily is quick to answer, and Alison just shakes her head. "Fine. What did you get up to this weekend? Tell me you did something more interesting than me because I barely left my room for the entirety of it."

She listens to Alison talk about the ranch she'd gone to on Saturday with her chin propped up on the palm of her hand, elbow resting on the countertop, hanging onto the blonde's every word. It feels like it's been so long since they'd had a  _normal_ conversation – not about A or Alison's absence or fighting about where they stood with one another – and it's  _refreshing_.

There's a light in Alison's eyes as she talks about her old hobby that makes her look so much younger than usual, a childish excitement to her that Emily's  _missed_. She's missed this version of Alison –  _happy_  and carefree and animated – can't remember the last time she saw her like this. Certainly not since she'd come back to Rosewood, and she struggles to remember a time even before then – she hadn't realized, at the time, that Alison was being haunted by something much bigger than herself, and Emily wonders, looking back now, how she'd failed to realize that something was up.

"You'll have to come with me one day."

"Hell no," she fires back immediately, shuddering at just the mere thought. Alison had tried to drag her out to the stables with her several times in the past, and Emily had always vehemently refused. There was just something about being around animals that were vastly bigger than her that freaked her out – not to mention the  _insanity_  of the people who thought it was a good idea to climb  _aboard_  something that had a mind of its own.

The memory of the last time she was around horses is still clear in her mind, and she has no wish to repeat it.

"But why?"

"You know I don't like horses. They freak me out."

"I don't know  _why_. They're sweet and gentle and - "

"Tell that to the one that nearly killed me and Spencer the other day."

"He was probably just scared 'cause of the storm," Alison counters, and Emily shakes her head in disbelief.

"I nearly died and all your sympathy is for the  _horse_?"

"Don't be so dramatic." Alison rolls her eyes and Emily feigns to be horrified by her blasé attitude but on the inside she's elated. "You're completely fine."

"Just emotionally scarred for life." The blonde catches her eye and shakes her head, and Emily can't bite back the grin that settles across her face. "Okay, maybe I'm being a little dramatic.  _But_ there's still no way I'm going to let you take me with you one day. No. Way."

"We'll see," Alison says with a twinkle in her eye, and Emily narrows her gaze but the blonde just looks innocently back.

"Maybe I'll consider it if you come swimming with me one day." Alison's not scared of water, not like Emily's scared of horses, but the blonde had rarely been swimming with her and it had always been something she'd wanted more often – plus she'd  _never_ turn down the opportunity to see her in a swim suit.

"You can still swim? I thought… with your shoulder...?"

"I can still do it," she shrugs, pretending it's no big deal even though coming to terms with the fact that she'd never be able to swim like she used to had been one of the most difficult things she's ever had to do. "Just… not competitively. Or often. I don't really do it much anymore, it hurts too much – like, mentally, not my actual shoulder itself – but I'd make an exception for you."

"I hate A for taking that away from you."

"They could've taken worse away from me. You, for example."

"I'm not going anywhere," Alison promises her, and Emily wills herself to believe it. "And I'll think about it." Emily looks at her with confusion. "The swimming," she clarifies. "I'm thinking it'll be worth it to get you on a horse."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I never said anything about getting  _on_ a horse. I said I'd go  _with_ you. Two completely separate things."

"We'll see," Alison repeats with a mischievous grin, and the blaring of the timer signalling that the lasagne was done cuts off any protests Emily might have made. She moves to stand and help but Alison throws her a look that has her sinking back down onto the stool again.

"Very impressive," Emily comments as Alison slides a plate across to her over the counter a few minutes later, eying the food appreciatively as Alison takes her seat back opposite her.

"You haven't even tried it yet."

"Well it doesn't  _look_ like it's going to kill me, so that's a good start."

"Very funny." Emily ducks her head to hide her smile, and they eat in comfortable silence for a while – and Alison's right, she's a much better cook than Emily can probably ever hope to be, considering the lasagne's not only edible but taste's pretty great, too.

Emily cleans the dishes when they're done, Alison at her side drying them before putting them away, and the domesticity of it all isn't lost on her – unbidden, her mind's filled with the thought of a lifetime of this, of coming home from work to find Alison waiting for her, and she quickly pushes the thought away as her heart clenches hard in her chest with  _want_.

Alison catches her gaze as she's finishing the last plate and she wonders, from the wistful look on her face, if the blonde is thinking something similar. Emily retreats to the living room couch while Alison disappears upstairs to the bathroom, and Pepe sits in-front of her and plants his head on her knee, his tail sweeping across the carpet behind him.

"You have to look after her when I'm not here buddy, okay?" She tells him as she rubs a hand behind his ears, and he whines at her in response. She's still so furious about Mona and her antics but she knows that Alison wants her to drop it, doesn't want her worrying about the blonde – but she  _does_ , can't help but wonder if Mona's planning something else and she wants to glue herself to Alison's side in-case something does but something tells her that the gesture probably wouldn't be appreciated.

When Alison comes back down the stairs there's an envelope in her hand, and Emily eyes it with curiosity as the blonde makes her way over to the couch to sit beside her, holding it out towards the brunette with trembling fingers.

"I was only joking when I was asking before," Emily murmurs, because Alison looks unsure and she doesn't want to feel like she's guilted the blonde into revealing something she's not ready for.

"I know. But this one… this is my biggest regret." Alison's voice is quiet, and she worries at her bottom lip as she pauses. "And probably one of the worst things I did, aside from leaving. So I wanted to be here when you read it. Try to explain myself, if I can."

"Okay." Emily's voice is quiet and she accepts the note almost warily, and she starts to read it as Pepe lifts his head and jumps up next to Alison, instead.

_That day in the locker room was one of the worst days of my life. I'm sure it was one of yours, too._

_Whenever we'd kissed before then, I'd always expected it and I was always_ ready  _for it. But on that day… I wasn't. You took me by surprise and the only thing I could think to do was to push you away because I was terrified._

_With one kiss you could bring me to my knees; no-one else could make me feel the way you did. I was an idiot back then, my reputation mattered to be above all else – I didn't know how to be with a girl, so I told myself that I only kept kissing you because I liked the way you made me feel._

_I loved the way you looked at me – everyone else looked at me like they wanted something from me, but you looked at me like I_ meant  _something. And I shouldn't have done what I did that day, it was cruel and stupid and_ hurtful _, knowing how you felt and flashing you anyway._

_And I still don't even know why I did it. And I'll never be able to apologize enough for the way that I reacted when you kissed me. But it just… you'd never dared to before, I'd always taken the lead once you'd made the first move and I didn't… I didn't know how I'd be able to stay away if you grew bolder because I wanted you more than I'd ever wanted anyone else before and it was hell to keep my hands to myself._

_So I thought if I convinced you that you didn't mean anything to me it would be easier. But I was wrong because I felt awful after it. On that drive home I knew you were trying so hard not to cry and you barely said a word the whole time, could barely look at me and it was… the worst I've ever felt in my entire life._

_I didn't know how to make it better, save telling you that I didn't mean it but I knew if I did that I wouldn't be able to stop myself falling for you any further than I already had. So I bit my lip and I stayed silent and I hated myself for hurting you and when I got home I cried over what a horrible person I was._

_I went back to your house that night, but you never saw me. I tried to build up the courage to knock on the door and apologize, anything to make it better but I couldn't do it. I stayed out there until two in the morning before I forced myself to go home – and when I left I saw you curled up on your window seat with tears in your eyes and I… I've never felt worse guilt and shame in my life than I did in that moment._

_But I wasn't brave enough to admit it. I pushed it down and I brushed that day off and I could see you hurting over it but I never brought it up again. A part of me was convinced that if we never talked about it then I wouldn't have to face my feelings (sound familiar? I guess I haven't changed all that much, after all). And then it was only a few weeks later that I went to Cape May for the summer._

_I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was away. I tried. You don't want to know the ways that I tried… Though I suppose you know about some of them by now. And I'm not proud of it, of trying to use someone to get over you. It never worked. I just kept wishing that it was your hands on me instead._

_I swore to myself that when I came back from there I'd try and be a better person. That I'd finally apologize. That I'd try and be worthy of you. That everyone else paled to even just the image of you, never mind the reality – and that trying to forget about you was futile. That I didn't think I ever would._

_But I never got the chance. Mona stole that from me along with everything else, and sometimes that's what I resent her for the most_.

Alison is silent while she reads, but Emily can feel the blonde's eyes on her. She doesn't know what to feel as she takes in the blonde's words – for so long, that awful day had been imprinted on her mind (even now she can remember it vividly, the feeling of Alison's soft skin beneath her lips before she'd wrenched away, the sting of rejection at the blonde's furious words, the sheer humiliation of having to drive her home and not being able to run away with her tail between her legs like she'd wanted).

It was the moment she'd finally forced herself to wake up from the dream that she'd been living – that Alison would ever feel the same way about her. It was that night, curled up on her window seat and staring blankly at the world outside as the sky had darkened around her, that she'd finally accepted that she was in love with her best friend… and that that friend would never, ever want her back.

And it had been one of the worst nights of her life so far.

And she'd hated herself for it, when Alison had disappeared. Blamed herself for that fact that their last few weeks together, before she'd gone away, had been strained because she was haunted by the revulsion on Alison's face.

It was during that time that the blonde had gotten drunk, that they'd kissed before Alison had told her she'd never feel that way about a girl. And Emily had barely even been able to look at her, after that. And a week later she was gone for the summer, leaving her alone with nothing but her own thoughts, of how  _stupid_ she was to ever believe that she'd have a chance with someone like Alison DiLaurentis.

She'd written that stupid letter then, too, telling Alison how she felt. Not that Alison had ever read it – as soon as she'd come back she was gone again, for good, this time, and all Emily had to comfort her was that last final moment alone, in her bedroom when the blonde had given her the snowglobe.

"Okay, you not talking is making me nervous." Alison's voice cuts through her thoughts, and when she lifts her head she sees the blonde worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, twisting her fingers nervously in her lap. "This was a bad idea."

"No, it's not, I just…" She struggles to find the right words, mind still preoccupied by the blonde's. "That day was… well. Not great for me." She laughs, but it's bleak – it was the first time she'd felt heartbreak and it hadn't been something that she'd ever wanted to feel again.

And even though it pales in comparison to the feeling of losing both Alison and Maya, her heat still clenches at the memory of it.

"I'm sorry."

"What have I told you about apologizing all the time?"

"But - "

"No buts. Let me talk." She holds up a hand to stop the blonde when she opens her mouth to protest before taking a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. "First of all  _thank you_." Alison looks surprise, and she smiles a little at the look on the blonde's face before explaining.

"You don't know for how long that day haunted me for. I dreamt about it, I had nightmares about it – and Ali, if you say sorry one more time I will walk out that front door right now - " She adds, as she sees Alison open her mouth yet again – at the brunette's words she flushes before snapping her jaw shut. "Because I never understood  _why_. I didn't understand how the girl who was so sweet with me sometimes – like asking me to run away with her to Paris – could turn into who I saw that day.

"Because okay, I knew you could be a bitch." She smiles apologetically at the blonde but Alison just waves her on. "I'd seen it in you. Towards me even, sometimes. But never like that… And I wondered how deluded I must've been, to actually  _convince_ myself that you might have feelings for me, too. That day was like a slap in the face, and I looked back and I decided that you'd just been messing with me all along."

"I swear I wasn't," Alison interrupts, her voice pleading and her eyes filled with desperation. "I  _wasn't_. But I never knew how to love, Emily. My parents, my  _brother_ , weren't… you've seen them. Do you think I grew up in a happy, loving home? Because I didn't. So what I felt for you paralyzed with me fear. I wasn't  _supposed_ to fall for anyone. And I didn't know how to deal with it and it doesn't justifyanything –  _nothing_  can do that – but I just wanted… I  _needed_ to try and help you understand what I was thinking back then. Because I look back at that day and some of the others and I think that if our positions were reversed, how could I ever believe that you had feelings for me at all with some of the things I did? And I realized that I  _wouldn't_. Not without trying to understand you. Maybe not even then. So I don't even know how I can ask you to try."

"Luckily for you I happen to be very open-minded." She tries to lighten the mood, her mind still swirling from the turn this day has taken, and when she sees that Alison still looks so worried she reaches out and takes one of the blonde's hands in her own, twisting their fingers together and squeezing softly. "Did you really mean it?" Alison raises a questioning eyebrow. "About Paris. About running away."

"I meant it. We'd get a crappy one-bedroom apartment overlooking the city, the Eiffel tower in the background, and every weekend we'd visit a different part of the city until we'd been to it all, have a huge collage of all the photo's we'd taken in each place. You'd teach kids to swim; I'd teach them English. We'd take Pepe with us, and we'd never look back." There's a faraway look on Alison's face, like she's daydreamed about this a hundred times before, and both that and her words warm Emily's heart.

"Sounds nice."

"Sounds like a fantasy." Alison's eyes had been downcast, focusing on where Emily was drawing absent patterns on the back of her hand with her fingers, and when she finally looks up her eyes are sad.

"Sounds like a dream," Emily corrects, gently, holding Alison's gaze, barely able to breathe under the intensity of it. "Then it's something to work towards."

"You'd really go?"

"How else are you going to see how good I look on top of the Eifel tower?" Alison smiles for the first time since she'd come downstairs, and Emily congratulates herself for pulling one out of the blonde when she'd seemed so worried before.

Alison's eyes hold hers and Emily wants nothing more than to close the distance between them and crash their lips together, to  _feel_ how much Alison wants her, instead of reading it. She's drawn to Alison with an almost magnetic force, doesn't know how to keep her hands to herself anymore. It's like a floodgate had opened, that night when they'd fought over the photos of Alison and Noel together, after Alison had thrown her against the wall and kissed her until she could scarcely remember why they were arguing in the first place – and ever since, whenever they've been alone, they've kissed.

And Emily wants it again, craves the taste of Alison's mouth on her tongue with a desperation that she's never felt before, and her fingers tremble against the back of Alison's hand, and the blonde's eyes are dark and Emily can feel her heart beating loud in her ears and she  _wants_ her and  _screw_ moving slow because she doesn't know if she can survive the wait, consequences be damned.

She finds herself leaning forward almost without conscious thought, unable to resist the lure of Alison's lips – and the second before they touch the front door slams open, and Emily springs away from the blonde with her heart pounding fast in her chest, and she schools her face into what she hopes is a neutral expression as Alison's dad comes into view.

"Emily." He sounds surprised to see her, and she smiles in greeting, hoping that she doesn't look like she's just been having very inappropriate thoughts about his daughter. "I didn't realize you were coming over tonight."

"I invited her over for dinner," Alison explains, and Emily's sure she sees resentment in the blonde's eyes. "Seeing as you're never here for it." That last part is muttered under her breath, too quiet for her father to hear it, and Emily feels a stab of sympathy at what it must feel like to come back from the dead and have your own father be even more absent than ever before.

"So you've already eaten?"

"There are leftovers in the fridge." He nods to himself before heading into the kitchen without another word, and Alison watches him go with an unreadable expression on her face.

"I think that's my cue to leave," Emily murmurs before she rises to her feet, and Alison catches her wrist and half-heartedly tries to pull her back down.

"You don't have to."

"I do. I told my Mom I'd be home by eight and I have homework I need to finish by tomorrow or I'm screwed…" She bites her lip, debating whether to admit to  _real_ reason why she feels like she needs to go… and decides what the hell. "Plus I'm not really sure I can be trusted to keep my hands to myself when I'm around you right now and that's  _probably_ not a good idea while your dad's around."

Alison flushes at her words and she smirks before turning her back and busying herself with collecting her stuff and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "You can't say stuff like that and then just  _leave_ ," Alison mutters darkly as she follows the brunette to the front door and Emily chuckles quietly.

"But we're supposed to be taking this one step at a time," she points out, opening the door and then leaning her shoulder against the frame, and when Alison's eyes trail deliberately slowly down the length of her body her breath hitches.

"Yeah, well, I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that." She has to fight a shudder at the husky tone of the blonde's voice, because she's not  _used_ to it. Alison has never looked at her so openly (aside from that night in her bedroom upstairs when Emily's dreams had come true), like she wanted to rip off her clothes and kiss every inch of her skin, and it sets her aflame.

She's pretty sure she's going to need a cold shower when she gets home.

"That's  _definitely_ my cue to leave." Her throat feels tight, and her voice comes out strained, and this time it's Alison who smirks and Emily wants to wipe it away with a kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Mhm. But text me when you get home so I know you made it safely."

"Ali I live like five minutes away." Though a part of her is thrilled by the blonde's concern over her welfare – not that she'd ever admit it.

"I don't care. A lot can happen between now and then."

"Fine, fine, I'll text you,  _Mom_." Alison glares at her playfully but she just grins, bending down briefly to give Pepe one last pat goodbye. "Night, Ali." She gives the blonde one last lingering look before forcing herself to turn and walk to her car, feeling the weight of Alison's gaze on her back.

She's sliding into the driver's seat when her phone rings, and when she fishes it out of her pocket she sees Hanna's name and shakes her head, deciding to ignore it – at least until she sees that the blonde has already tried to reach her several times.

" _Fucking finally_ ," Hanna's voice is relieved in her ear when she finally answers, and she rolls her eyes at the tone of the blonde's voice.  _"I thought Alison had kidnapped you to force you to stay at her house."_

"How do you know I was there?"

" _Because I am at_ yours _and your Mom told me."_

"What? Why are you at my house?"

" _Um, because I needed to talk to you, dumbass, and you wouldn't pick up the freaking phone. Your Mom let me in, told me I could wait for you to get back from Ali's. Have you finally finished fucking for long enough for you to take a call?"_

"It's not  _like_ that," she says with a huff as she pulls carefully out of Alison's driveway.

" _Oh? What_ is  _it like, then? Enlighten me."_

"Why did you need to talk to me so bad, anyway?" She asks, trying to change the subject, and Hanna tuts in disapproval.

" _You're not getting away with it that easily, Fields. And I'll tell you when you finally drag your ass back here. Maybe the curiosity of it will be enough for you to drag yourself away from Alison's mouth for two seconds."_

"You're ridiculous."

" _Oh, am I? Am I really? So there's nothing going on between you two?"_ She doesn't answer, doesn't want to lie – because though there's not,  _technically_ , she's hoping there will be soon.  _"See. I knew it."_

"Whatever." She reaches her own drive, pulls up in the driveway and sees Hanna perched in the window of her bedroom – when the blonde sees her she grins and waves, and Emily shakes her head. "I'll be up in two seconds."

" _I'll be waiting. And if you think you can get away with not spilling the beans on whatever's going on between you and Ali, think again."_


	10. Chapter Ten

When she makes her way upstairs Hanna has moved so that she’s lounging on her bed, and Emily shakes her head at her blonde friend as Hanna reaches for her and yanks her down next to her. “I thought you said before that you _didn’t_ want to seem like a stalker?”

“Well, I changed my mind.” Emily curls up with her back pressed against her headboard as Hanna sprawls out beside her. “And it’s not stalking. I was worried about you.”

“Worried I was spending too much time with Alison, you mean?” Even though Hanna had said before she’d be okay with anything happening between them, Emily isn’t convinced that it’ll be so easy for the blonde to come to terms with it, knows that there’s still a lot of lingering resentment in her when it comes to Alison, but that’s something for the two blondes to work through without her help.

“ _No_.” Emily just shoots the blonde a meaningful look and she sighs. “Fine. Maybe. I know I said I was fine with it before and I _am_ it’s just… don’t you think you’re moving awfully fast? It was only four days ago that you got so trashed because of her that she had to drag you home.”

“I could say the same thing about you and Caleb,” Emily counters, and Hanna shoots her a glare.

“That’s _different_.”

“In some ways, maybe,” Emily shrugs, avoiding Hanna’s gaze by focusing on the blanket draped over her bed, winding her fingers through it over and over. “But he still left you and then when he came back you weren’t sure where you stood with him. And I know the circumstances are completely different but… if you’re going to judge me then I think you need to take a long look at yourself first.”

“I’m not _judging_ you.” Hanna sighs again, and when Emily chances a glance towards the blonde she sees a frown on her face. “I just… I’m _worried_ about you. Caleb and I have had our issues, sure, but he’s never… He’s never purposefully messed me around.”

“I know. And I know why you’re telling me to be careful and I _am_. And there’s not… there’s not even anything going on between us, not really. She’s just… she’s trying. To open up to me, to explain why she did all the things she did and I’m trying to believe her. I know you probably think that I’m idiot for it but I… I still care about her, Han. And I can't let the chance for us to be together slip away just because I’m scared I might get hurt.”

“But what if you do? What if she hasn’t changed?”

“Then she hasn’t, and I’d be an idiot for trusting her again,” Emily shrugs, trying to be nonchalant about it even though the words, the _thought_ of it happening, fill her with dread. “And I’d deal with it if it happened. But you haven’t… you haven’t _seen_ her recently, Han. You’ve been so determined to keep her at arm’s length – and believe me, I don’t blame you for it – and we’ve all been _waiting_ for her to mess up, to show us that she’s a completely different person but she’s never going to be. There’s always going to be some of the girl she used to be, cruel and manipulative and sometimes really unkind but that’s… we were all friends with her in spite of that. I _loved_ her, in spite of that. And I don’t think it’s fair for us to put so much pressure on a girl who’s been through so much just to make it back to us in one piece.”

“Wow.” Hanna looks surprised by her outburst and she flushes a little, not meaning to say so much – but she’s had so long over the last few days to dwell on the past but no-one to talk about it with. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I haven’t given her enough of a chance.”

“And you don’t need to, not if you don’t want to. Not if you’re not _ready_ to.” Emily says softly, seeing the doubt written on Hanna’s face, and she thinks about how difficult it had been to convince herself to give Alison a second chance, and knows it can't be easy for any of the others, either – because Alison had hurt them all, left them all behind, kept things from them all, and they’d all loved her, in their own way.

It had just been her who had loved her the most fiercely.

“It’s just… I can't look at her without remembering the look on her face when she called me ‘hefty Hanna’. Without thinking about the amount of times I cried about the things she said whenever I was alone, wishing I looked more like her. I can't look at her without wondering when I started to try to turn into her. I mean, look at me. Mona turned me into Alison 2.0 and I was so _desperate_ to be her that I didn’t even realize what I’d done.”

“Until now.” There’s a bitterness in the blonde’s voice , a simmering resentment that Emily’s not used to seeing from her carefree friend, and it _scares_ her, a little – they’ve all been twisted into different versions of themselves, first by Alison and then by the horror of losing her and then by Mona and the new A after her, and sometimes Emily looks in the mirror and barely recognises herself, but this is the first time she’s looked at Hanna and wondered when she’d become the same.

“Until now.” The blonde runs a frustrated hand through her hair. “I thought if I changed the way I looked, the way I dressed, I could actually become my own person, for once, instead of an imitation.”

“You are your own person, Han,” Emily says gently, reaching out to squeeze the blonde’s shoulder comfortingly. “You always have been.”

“If you say so.” But she doesn’t look convinced. “But I don’t know how to look at her and see past all the horrible things she said to me. I don’t know how to welcome her with open arms and pretend that none of it ever happened.”

“If you do that then you’ll never get over it.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” It’s not an accusation – there’s nothing but honest curiosity in the blonde’s voice and Emily just shakes her head with a small sigh.

“No. It’d be easier if I could, believe me.” Her eyes lift from the blonde’s and instead rest on the photoframe that lies on her bedside table, of the five of them from the one summer they’d shared before Alison had disappeared, smiling and laughing, and she remembers how she’d used to look at it and wish she could back to that time, with Alison still alive, before she’d realized how hopelessly in love with her she was and their every encounter ran the risk of becoming strained.

But she’s not sure she’d wish for that, anymore – she hadn't been happy then, not truly. She’d been struggling with who she was, with finding her place in the world, and not once, since she’d come out and accepted herself, had she wished she’d never done it at all.

“Then what are you doing? How can you… how can you fix all that’s broken between you?”

“The hard way. By taking it slow and making up for past mistakes – by being honest about it all in the hope that it’ll be okay, in the end. And no,” she says as Hanna opens her mouth to say something else, guessing what the blonde’s thinking. “I don’t know if it will be. I don’t know if we will be okay or if at the end of it all we’ll be able to make it work. But I do know that now that she’s here I at least have to _try_.”

“I wish I had that,” Hanna says, voice soft, and her eyes are vulnerable as they flicker up to meet hers. “The faith you have that you’ll be okay, in spite of everything.”

“I kind of have to,” Emily shrugs, a wry smile on her face. “Because if I could barely move on while she was gone I know I wouldn’t stand a chance with her being back. And I know I couldn’t live with it if I didn’t at least give her a chance.”

“And you believe everything she’s told you?”

“I don’t know what she stands to gain by lying about it.” It was something that she’d thought about, over the course of the day, but she could find no reason to doubt Alison’s sincerity – not yet, anyway. “If it’s to stop me turning my back on her… It’d only work until I found her out. She knows I’m not as blinded by her as I used to be, that I’m not going to hesitate to call her out on her bullshit. And you haven’t seen her… I can’t believe that she’s a good enough actress to be fooling me. And if she is… well. I guess I’ll find out, in the end.”

“And I’ll be there to pick up the pieces.” Hanna repeats Emily’s words from earlier in the day and the brunette catches her eyes and smiles. “As long as you’re being careful.”

“I am,” she promises, “we’re not even together.”

“But you’re happy?”

“Happi _er_.” And she is – things aren’t perfect, but they rarely are in her life as of late. But compared to the despair she’d been drowning in just a week ago, she feels like a completely different person. “And what about you? Is there any particular reason you’re here with me instead of with your boyfriend?”

“He’s with _Toby_.” Hanna makes a face and Emily bites her lip to hide a smile. “Like he can talk to Toby about things and not me.”

“He probably just needs a friend, Han.”

“But why can't that be _me_? He should only need someone else if he’s talking _about_ me. What if he thinks we’ve made a mistake, getting back together so quickly? What if Toby talks him out of it?”

“Whoa, Han, breathe.” There’s a frantic look in the blonde’s eyes, and Emily’s heart clenches with sympathy because she _knows_ what that doubt feels like. “He’s crazy about you. I saw the two of you together at lunch today and there’s no way he’s having regrets, okay? He probably just needs to talk about… whatever it is boys do when they’re alone, I don’t know.”

“That may be one of the gayest things I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Oh, shut up.” The blonde breaks into laughter and she smacks her in the face with a pillow – and being hit in return is worth seeing the look of shock on her face. “Feel better now?”

“A bit,” she shrugs as she lets the pillow drop back down onto the bed. “But could I stay here tonight? My Mom’s out with Ted so she won't be home ‘til late and I don’t really wanna be home alone. It makes it harder not to drink.”

“You’re not, though, right? And of course you can stay here. I’ll have to check with my Mom but I doubt she’ll care – and seeing as I just noticed your bag of stuff on the floor, I’m guessing she already knows.”

“Sorry,” Hanna looks at her sheepishly, but Emily just smiles to herself.

“It’s fine, you know you’re always welcome here.”

“And as to your other question – yes, I’m staying sober. Or that’s the plan, anyway. I think my Mom might throw me out if she catches me drinking again anytime soon.”

x-x-x

“You wake up far too early,” Hanna complains as Emily’s pulling into the school parking lot the next morning, ten minutes earlier than usual – she’d allotted the extra time well aware that Hanna was a nightmare to get up and moving in the mornings, but thanks to practically dragging her out of her bed they’d actually ended up on time.

“And you wake up far too late. Come on.”

“You’re also way too chipper for this hour in the morning,” the blonde carries on as they slip out of the car and head into the school side-by-side, and Emily rolls her eyes.

“You were with me in the morning like every day last week,” the brunette points out as they reach her locker, Hanna leaning next to it as Emily fiddles with the combination.

“But you were hungover for all of them and therefore much easier to be around.” Emily laughs as she swings her locker door open, ready to deposit the books she needs inside – when she notices yet another envelope inside she snatches it up as quick as she can, but she’s not quite fast enough for Hanna not to notice. “What’s that? And if you say it’s a note about swim practice again I will slap you.”

“It’s from Alison,” she admits begrudgingly, knowing that the blonde had let her lie slide yesterday but wouldn’t be likely to again.

“Saying what?”

“I’ll know when I read it.” She slips it into the pocket of her coat, not trusting it in her bag in-case the blonde tries to steal it away.

“So you’re exchanging love notes now?” Emily doesn’t answer her as she trails behind Hanna down the hall to her locker, and Emily breathes out a sigh.

“Who’s writing love notes?” Aria and Spencer are waiting for them, and Emily curses her blonde friend’s loud mouth.

“Emily and Alison,” Hanna supplies, and the brunette glares at the back of her head as she turns away from her to grab a textbook.

“That’s so romantic,” Aria gushes while Spencer eyes her curiously, and Emily is kind of regretting not leaving Hanna in bed those extra ten minutes because if she had they wouldn’t be having this conversation because they’d be too busy rushing to class, instead.

“Sickeningly so, you mean?” Hanna adds, and Emily’s eyes flutter closed as the blonde chuckles to herself. “Oh, lighten up,” she says when she catches a glimpse of the brunettes face. “I’m just joking.”

“Can you not joke about something that’s actually _funny_?” Her… whatever with Alison is still too new for her to want to share it, and she’s not sure how the blonde would feel, knowing that the other three knew about her letters.

“Alright, alright.” Hanna holds her hands out in-front of her apologetically. “I’m sorry. It’s very romantic.” Emily rolls her eyes and the blonde grins. “She’s standing over there, by the way.” Hanna nods to somewhere behind Emily’s shoulder, and when she turns she sees Alison hovering outside of a doorway and bites her lip, torn about going over there – but then she sees the reason for Alison’s hesitation in the form of Mona, standing ahead of her in the hall and chatting with some of her friends.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmurs before heading over to the blonde, resting a hand on her elbow and immediately releasing it when Alison jumps at her touch. “It’s just me,” she reassures her with a soft smile. “How are your hands?”

“Bruised, but I’ll live.” She shrugs, and Emily glances down to see the bandages are still in place, and at the sight of them her anger at Mona comes back full force.

“Do you want me to walk you to class?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t _have_ to. But do you want me to?” Alison’s eyes flicker down the hall once more to where Mona still stands, her eyes watching them curiously now, and the blonde flushes slightly as she nods.

They’re halfway down the hall, Emily pressed closed to Alison’s side, when Mona’s voice trickles over to them, and it sets Emily aflame with a fury akin to nothing she’s ever come close to feeling before.

“Aw look, isn’t that sweet? The Queen Bee’s got her guard dog back. I wonder how gullible you have to be for that to happen?” She doesn’t even think when they reach the smaller brunette – all she knows is that at one point Alison is warm at her side, and then in the next she’s reaching for Mona and slamming her back against the row of lockers behind them, her hands pinning the other girls shoulders hard as she fights the urge to instead wrap them around her neck.

Because she’d almost forgotten what Mona had put them through – all the awful things that she’d told herself to forget about, to forgive and move on lest she dwell on it, drown in it, lest it ruin her – but they all come rushing back to her now, playing out like a movie in-front of her eyes.

It’s Mona who drove Alison away, with the barrage of never-ending threatening texts. Mona who had enabled the blonde to make her getaway, on that night when she’d found her on the side of the road. Mona who hadn't settled just for ruining Emily’s life by making her think that her first love was dead, but also then tortured her and her friends too, just because she could.

She’s never been a violent person, preferring to wage her battles with words rather than fists. But as she stares down at Mona’s smirking face, she wants to lash out. She wants to feel bone splinter beneath her hands, and the thought terrifies her – but not enough for her to let the other girl go.

“If you ever go near her again,” she murmurs, her voice low and dark and dangerous, and she can barely recognise as it as her own, her fingers digging so hard into Mona’s shoulders that her knuckles are white, and Mona clutches at her lower arms almost as hard, nails biting into her skin hard enough to leave a lasting mark. “You’ll regret it.”

“Please. You’re really threatening me? Really? You couldn’t do shit to me, Emily. Not like I could do to you.” Mona’s voice is taunting, and Emily’s arms shake with the force of her rage, and she’s never felt so out of control.

“You’ve already taken so much away from me, Mona,” she says in a hard voice. “A little more won’t hurt. But you? You have so much worth taking. Mike, for one.” Mona’s eyes flash and Emily knows she’s found something worth holding on to. “Or your precious reputation. The five of us could bring you crashing down if we really wanted but we haven’t. Maybe I’ll change my mind about that if you keep on messing with my friends.”

“’Cause that’s all Alison is to you?” Mona’s smirk had been wiped away by Emily’s words but it comes back full-force now. “Don’t kid yourself. If you didn’t want in her pants so badly would you even care what happened to her? You didn’t seem to last week. Did she sweet talk her way back into our good graces? Careful, Emily. The most charming snakes are the ones with the worst bite.”

“Just stay away from her,” she hisses, her grip tightening and she feels a flash of gratification when she sees the smaller woman grimace. “You hear me?”

“Emily,” Alison’s voice interrupts them, at her elbow, and she tugs at the back of her jacket urgently. “Let her go.” She breaks the staring contest she and Mona had been locked in and remembers herself – in the school hallway, with a dozen eyes upon them, and Ella Montgomery blazing down the corridor towards them.

“What on earth is going on here?” She demands as Emily hastily releases Mona from her hold, and the students that had been so captivated mere seconds before scatter like leaves in the wind, leaving just the three of them and Aria’s Mom in the hall.

“Nothing,” Emily answers with a sweet smile. “We were just talking.” She shoots Mona and meaningful look and she glares back, and Emily can't help but think ‘if looks could kill’.

“Everything’s fine, Mrs Montgomery.” Mona’s back to her usual charming self, and with no-one to admit that they’d been fighting Ella can do nothing but sigh and let Mona go as she gathers herself and turns to leave, stomping off down the hall in her five-inch heels.

“Emily,” Ella cautions as Emily, too, turns to leave, and the brunette winces when she sees the stern look on her face. “I understand that you might be upset - ” She glances meaningfully at Alison’s bandaged hands, “but that doesn’t mean you can go off like that. This is place to learn. Leave everything else behind you when you walk through the door.”

She nods, unable to do anything else, and the older woman turns and walks away with another slight shake of her head, and she breathes out a quiet sigh of relief that she hadn't been punished for her momentary lapse in control.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Alison chastises her when she turns to face the blonde, and there’s a frown on her face and she’s looking at Emily like she barely knows who she is anymore. “It’ll just wind her up even more.”

“Or maybe it’ll help stop her pulling another stupid stunt.”

“Or maybe she’ll just be back with a vengeance.”

“But probably towards me and not you.”

“And you think that makes me feel better?” Alison’s voice rises slightly and Emily watches her take a deep breath before she speaks again, her voice quieter. “Because it doesn’t. The thought that something might happen to you because of me… that’s my worst nightmare.”

“I’ll watch my back,” she promises, because she does anyway – there’s no way she can’t, not anymore. Not with A hovering around every corner, and she’d learned to live her life while constantly looking over her shoulder a long time ago. “But so should you.”

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Alison murmurs after a few moments of silence, and Emily’s eyes widen slightly in disbelief.

“Is that really what you’re mad about? That I stood up for you?”

“I wouldn’t call that ‘standing up for me’,” Alison replies, folding her arms across her chest and levelling her with an even look. “I’d call that ‘attacking someone _because_ of me’. If you’re looking for an excuse to hurt Mona, don’t use me as it.”

“I was trying to help you!”

“And I can fight my own battles!” Alison replies, calm in the face of the frustration in Emily’s voice. “I appreciate that you have my back and that you care about me enough to get in Mona’s face over what happened yesterday… but I didn’t ask you to. I know I might have seemed it when you found me, but I’m not some vulnerable little girl who needs taking care of - ”

“I never said you were!”

“Then why did you do it?” Alison asks gently, and Emily clenches her jaw because she doesn’t understand why Alison’s making this into such a big _deal_. And the bell for first period went just after she’d grabbed Mona and the longer she waits to go to class the more likely she is to miss swim practice later in detention, but she doesn’t know how to walk away from this conversation.

“Because I wanted to get her back for hurting you,” she answers finally, voice quiet. “Because you wouldn’t admit that she did it and I wanted to make her pay because she shouldn’t be able to get _away_ with it – with any of it.”

“So you did it for you. Not for me.” Emily opens her mouth to protest but the words die in her throat under the look that Alison fixes her with. “Don’t deny it. Look, Em. I hurt a lot of people at this school. Some of them harbour a lot of resentment for that, and they’re probably going to want to hurt _me_ over it. And you can't slam all of them against a row of lockers and threaten them for it, okay?”

“Next time I won’t bother helping you, then,” she mutters angrily – but she’s angrier more at herself (and Mona, too), than Alison. She knows the blonde has a point, that she’d snapped and she _shouldn’t_ have and she could’ve been suspended over it, really, had Mona complained or had it been anyone other than Ella who had found them.

But she hates the fact that Alison’s right, that she’s calling her out on it when her initial thought _had_ just been to stop something from happening to her again,  even if she probably could’ve gone about it a different way.

“Emily!” Alison calls out her name in disbelief when she turns to make her way back down the hall, and she freezes at the fear she hears in the blonde’s voice, too.

“I’m not running away,” she promises, keeping her back to the blonde because she doesn’t know if she can look at her anymore without crying. “I swear. I just… I’m mad – not at you – and I know if I stick around that I’ll say something I regret. So I’m going to cool off, and I’ll talk to you later.”

“Lunch?”

“Maybe.” She hears Alison sigh in response but when the blonde doesn’t reply she collects herself before heading towards her first class – she turns just before she slips through the door and sees Alison still standing there, watching her, and has to force herself to turn away.

The teacher lectures her on the importance of being on time for three minutes instead of giving her a detention, opting for public humiliation instead, and as she slides into her seat at the back of classroom when he’s finished chewing her out she wants to smack Hanna because if not for the blonde drawing her attention to Alison earlier than her day wouldn’t have gotten off to such a shitty start.

“What the hell was that?” Hanna whispers to her as soon as she gets the chance, and Aria and Spencer both turn around too, expectant looks on their faces.

“Mona pulled a stupid stunt yesterday, mentioned it as we were walking by and I… sort-of snapped.”

“Sort of?” Spencer says with disbelief. “I thought you were going to strangle her! What did she do that was so bad?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hanna cuts in, looking at Spencer as though she’s stupid. “Something to Alison, duh.” Emily turns to look at her with a raised eyebrow, silently asking her to explain, and she rolls her eyes dramatically. “You’d never do something like that over something that happened to you. You’d rather brush it off than confront it. But for Ali… I reckon you would. Plus, it’s just like when Caleb punched Zac over what happened with me.”

“Hey, were you pissed when he did that?” Emily asks quickly, before the others start to ask her what, exactly, it was that Mona had done, because that’s Alison’s story to tell, not hers.

“Half of me was. I mean, if Zac wanted to press charges, then Caleb could get into a lot of trouble… And I thought it was stupid that he’d risk that over me. But then the other half of me thought it was hot as fuck.” Emily bites back a laugh at the blonde’s words, but doesn’t quite manage it – they get a death glare from their teacher at the front of the room and have to fall silent, their conversation cut short as they’re forced to work, instead.

When she opens her textbook she remembers the note she’d all but forgotten about until then as it falls into the table, and she tears it open gently the first chance she gets, spreading it out in her book to make it look like she’s reading that, instead.

_I guess we can't really make a fresh start without talking about our exes._

_I know all about yours. I know about Ben and how you broke up with him for Maya. You never talk about her but I’ve heard about her. And I saw you two together too, once – it was after Hanna had been run over and I came back for the first time, and I couldn’t risk the temptation of getting to see you again._

_Imagine my surprise when I saw you holding hands with a girl (who wasn’t me). I resented that she got to have what I’d so desperately wanted, that you could be so open about your relationship without fear… but I was happy for you, too._

_Happy that my treatment of you hadn't scared you so much that you couldn’t to be true to who you are. And I wish I’d gotten to be your first girlfriend, but from what I hear Maya was a pretty great one to have. And I’m so, so sorry for what happened to her – you don’t deserve to know the heartbreak that you do._

_And then there was Paige… I’m sure she’s probably told you all about me. I treated her awfully, I made her terrified to admit who she was, and it was all borne out of jealously. I knew how she felt about you, and I thought that if you knew, if you could have the chance at being open and honest and_ happy _with someone who could love you in the way you deserved, that you’d go to her and you’d never look back at me._

_And I couldn’t stand the thought of that, so I used her feelings against her. And I feel… truly, truly terrible about it, and I know that that doesn’t make up for it because nothing ever can._

_I don’t really want to talk about_ my _exes but I guess I have to. I never dated, not really. I craved the attention that I got from guys (though it always paled in comparison to that I got from you), and I loved it from older guys especially._

_I had a string of them – Ian, Ezra, and others. But I never gave a shit about them. And then that summer at Cape May I got involved with the wrong guy and… well. Let’s just say it didn’t end well. I was so desperate to forget how I felt about you that I’d settle for someone who treated me even worse than I treated you. Maybe a part of me felt like I deserved what I got._

When she finishes reading she feels even worse about leaving Alison alone in that hallway, the blonde’s implication that she’d been in an abusive relationship that summer making her heart ache with sympathy – and another part of her wonders if that had been another reason for her running away, to get away from the memory of him (and, she realizes with a chill, she’d forgotten all about CeCe’s revelation, that Alison might have been pregnant when she’d disappeared – she wonders if that was from this guy, and the thought makes her sick and she knows she’s going to have to ask about it even though a part of her doesn’t want to know the answer).

At the end of the class she glances at her phone and sees an essay from Alison, reads it as she’s on her way to her next period, trying to dodge and weave around the sea of kids between her and where she needs to be.

_I’m sorry. I know you were just trying to help before and I overreacted and I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. I don’t know if you’ve already read the note I left for you this morning… but if you have maybe you’ll understand. That guy… or ‘Beach Hottie’, as I’m sure you probably know him as… if another guy so much as looked at me he’d go crazy, would push them around just because they happened to glance my way. I felt like I was his property, that I belonged to him, and that was how he treated me. And I know you’re nothing like him, but this morning just… It reminded me of that and I hated it. I guess I’m just not used to people taking care of me when they don’t have anything to gain from it. Please forgive me._

She _definitely_ regrets her actions that morning, reading the blonde’s words, but she still feels more anger curl and roil in her gut at the thought that Alison had suffered at the hands of yet another person in her life.

_It’s okay, Ali. Like I said, I wasn’t mad at you, I just needed to cool off. And I have, and I really don’t want to talk about this over text – and if you think you’re getting out of talking about it then I’m sorry but you really don’t know me at all because I’m not just going to let this go (unless you need me to, but I can't forever, and neither can you)._

She gets a reply less than thirty seconds after she’s sent the message, as she’s settling into her seat, and she has to hide her phone from their teacher as she reads the blonde’s response.

_I don’t want to talk about it but I know we need to. I’d say lunch but I really don’t think school is the place. You can come to mine later? My dad isn’t home._

_You come to mine_ , Emily types out a quick reply, half-listening to the description of the pop quiz they have next week. _Less chance of getting distracted because my Mom will be there._

_Are you trying to say you find me distracting? ;)_

_You have no idea._

_And to think, that’s without me even trying…_ Emily has to bite her lip when she reads Alison’s reply, her mind going into overdrive – and she knows she has to shut this conversation _down_ because it’s going to a place that is _so_ not appropriate for history class.

_Have to go or my phone’s going to get taken off me,_ she lies, only feeling a slight twitch of guilt. _I’ll see you at lunch?_

_No, spend it with the others. I’ll just meet you after-school._

_You could come sit with us, you know. I figured now that we’re okay that you’d come back to us. And not after-school – I have swim practice/coaching. I can pick you up after?_

_I’ve been spending all my lunches in the library because I have work I need to catch up on if I want any hope of graduating as soon as I can. And I’ll wait for you to finish. I can get some more work done and then come watch you for a bit… And don’t say that I shouldn’t because I’ll be bored, because the sight of you ordering everyone around is all the entertainment I need…_

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

"I know what you're doing." Alison glances up from her notes at the sound of the voice, because she can scarcely believe that out of everyone, it's Hanna Marin hovering over her. She hasn't spoken to Hanna since she'd left the blonde's house after the whole Noel fiasco and returned to her own – aside from that awful evening where she'd found the blonde with Emily in the park, but considering how drunk the other woman had been she's not sure she can count it.

"Calculus?" Alison replies smartly, pen tapping against the paper open in-front of her, and Hanna makes a face before she slides into the seat opposite of Alison, resting her arms on the table, an unusually serious expression on her face.

"No." Alison's been in the library since she finished last period nearly half an hour ago, determined to get as much work done as she possibly can before she goes to Emily's. "With the notes and the acting all scared of Mona and everything else. I know what you're doing."

"Please," she says, her voice sickly sweet, and she has to force herself to stay calm even though Hanna's tone is accusatory. "Enlighten me."

"You're trying to win her back."

"And that's a problem because…?"

"Because I don't know how to believe that you've actually changed. Emily has so much unwavering faith in you, that you could be a better person, but I… I don't see it. I don't know how she does it."

"Honestly?" Alison can see, in Hanna's eyes, so like her own, that a part of her  _wants_ to believe in Alison, wants to have her back in her life… but she doesn't know how to. "I don't either. If someone treated me like I treated her – and the rest of you, too – I wouldn't know how to get over it. She's a bigger person than I am."

"Than the both of us," Hanna adds, and Alison smiles softly, because at least they can both agree on  _something_. "If you hurt her, Ali, I swear to god…"

"I know. I already got the talk from Spencer: 'if you hurt her again I'll make you wish you really had died that night'. I get it. Hurt her and I'm a dead woman."

"Spencer really said that?" Hanna asks, looking impressed. "When? She didn't tell us about it."

"She came to talk to me last week," Alison shrugs, and Hanna nods, looking thoughtful. "And I have no intention of hurting her again, you have to believe me. I care about her. I always did, I just never… never knew how to show it."

"I want to believe you, Ali. I want to believe that you're not the same girl who put me down for how much I weighed and me feel so shitty about it that when I lost it I did it in the worst way imaginable. I want to believe that really, deep down, you're the sweet girl I saw sometimes, who'd do anything for her friends. I want to, but I don't know how."

"And I haven't made it easy for you," she replies quietly, remorse settling in her chest – Hanna had been the sweetest of the four girls, after Emily, the one who had been the easiest to cut down just so she could feel a little better about herself.

"Yeah, no shit."

"I'm sorry." She meets the blonde's gaze and sees a guarded look on her face, takes a deep breath and tells herself she's never going to get anywhere with Emily if she can't make amends with their friends, too. "I know I never really said it, but I am.

"I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. And I don't have a reason for it. You were sweet and nice and kind and a great friend and I… shamed you for the thing you hated the most about yourself, and I shouldn't have done it. And I know the stupid stunt I pulled the other night doesn't endear me to you, and I shouldn't have done that, either. And I'm sorry for that, too. I'm sorry for so much, Hanna – I've made a lifetime's worth of mistakes already and I'll be paying for them for the rest of my life, and I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"But you want it." Hanna's eyes never left hers as she was talking, her expression unchanging. "Don't you?"

"I'd like it," she shrugs, because Hanna is important to her – they all are. The blonde had been enough for her to risk herself when she came back to Rosewood, terrified for Hanna when she'd heard that she'd been put in the hospital. "But I'm not stupid enough to ask for it."

"Hanna!" A voice calls from over the blonde's shoulder, and Alison raises her eyes to see Caleb striding towards them with stormy eyes. "What are you doing?"

"We're just talking, chill," the blonde replies smoothly, with a roll of her eyes, and Alison's narrow as Caleb reaches their table and towers over them, looking down at Alison with clear distaste.

"What, are you her minder, now?" She doesn't like the look on his face, can't help but react to it, and Hanna shoots her a warning glance, aware of how she can get when she's pissed off.

"Ali, don't. He was just asking."

"I'd call it demanding, but okay," she mutters under her breath, but Hanna coughs to hide a laugh and she knows the other woman heard her. "You know I'm glad you found a boyfriend, Han, but… I think you could do better." Caleb bristles, and she smiles sweetly up at him.

"And I think they could all do with a better friend than you, so I guess we're both a little disappointed." Alison's smile slides off her face to be replaced by a sneer, and Hanna is quick to speak as Alison opens her mouth to come back with a biting retort.

"Okay, both of you need to cut it out, right now," she says as she rises to her feet, giving them both a stern look. "Because you're probably going to  _have_ to get along at some point in the near future. But for right now, we're leaving. Come on." She closes a hand around Caleb's wrist and starts to drag him away. "Oh, and Ali?" She turns to look at Alison over her shoulder. "Remember what I said. Don't - "

"Hurt her," she interrupts, wearily. "I know." She watches them leave and then glances at her watch, figures that she won't be able to get much more done with the blonde's words still swirling in her mind, so instead she gathers up her stuff and makes her way towards the pool.

She hears Emily before she sees her and smiles to herself, glad that, if the brunette couldn't have her hobby in the exact way that she wanted, at least she could have it in another. As she rounds the corner to bring the pool into view, she sees Emily on the edge, leaning down to talk to someone in the water, and Alison chooses a seat at the bottom of the bleachers and waits.

She catches Emily's eye after a few moments and grins, and the brunette smiles softly back at her before turning back to the pool, standing with her hands on her hips as she watches two girls race down to the other end with a frown of concentration on her face.

Alison's eyes flicker around the room and land on Paige, hovering behind Emily's shoulder – when she sees Alison she pales, glances from between the blonde and her ex-girlfriend, and Alison feels a stab of sympathy at the flash of pain that crosses the other girls face before she turns and disappears into the locker room.

But she's distracted from Paige's feelings when one of the girls in the pool climbs up the stairs, and makes her way over to Emily, and Alison narrows her eyes as she watches the way the girl talks to the brunette – she's not someone that Alison's ever seen before, with red hair and pale skin, and Alison doesn't like the way she presses close to Emily as she talks, as water streams down her back, and when she rests a hand on Emily's arm the blonde's eyes settle into a glare.

And she knows she doesn't have a right to be jealous, because she has no right to Emily. But the thought of anyone else's hands on her fills Alison with rage, just like it always has – and to  _see_ it happening?

She wants to go over there and give that girl a piece of her mind, but she won't. Because Emily will kill her and because she knows, logically, that she has nothing to worry about. If Emily was interested in this girl she wouldn't be looking at her with only a polite smile on her face, wouldn't brush the hand off of her arm tactfully – and she wouldn't be planning on leaving practice with Alison.

Still. She glares at them for a while longer, and when mystery girl turns to leave she tries to school her face into a neutral expression – but she knows she's failed when she sees Emily roll her eyes and shake her head as she makes her way over to the blonde.

"I know that look," she says as she comes to a stop in-front of Alison, her hands on her hips and the blonde looks up at her innocently. "What's Lucy ever done to you?"

"Nothing."

"Then why do you look like you want to kill her?" Emily's eyes narrow, and then she grins. "Were you jealous?"

" _No_. Don't be rid - "

"You totally were," Emily cuts her off, looking positively gleeful, and this time it's Alison who rolls her eyes. "Sorry. I just never thought I'd see the day where I could make Alison DiLaurentis jealous."

"Why? You've done it before. I apparently just hid it better." She's a little sullen over being found out so easily, but Emily's happiness about it makes up for it.

"Oh yeah? When?"

"Lots of times," she shrugs, avoiding the brunette's gaze as she talks, choosing instead to focus on the rippling water of the swimming pool. "Whenever you talked about Ben, because he got to hold you and kiss you whenever he wanted."

"Not whenever he wanted," Emily points out as she moves to sit beside the blonde on the bleachers. "Considering the fact that I was using him as beard and ew, gross."

"Well I didn't  _know_ that," Alison points out, bumping Emily's shoulder playfully with her own. "Um, there was Jenna, at that Halloween party – you don't still think she's hot, do you?"

"She's not really my type. I prefer blondes." She whispers it into Alison's ear and she shudders at the feeling of Emily's mouth brushing against her skin.

"And I prefer brunettes," she replies, and when she turns her head she realizes that Emily hadn't moved away, and there's less than an inch of space between them. "So I guess we're a good match."

"Mhm." Emily's eyes meet hers, hold her gaze, and Alison can barely breathe, wants nothing more than to reach out, slide a hand into the brunette's air and kiss her. "I should go and get my stuff so that we can leave."

"You probably should," she murmurs back, but Emily doesn't move – at least not until there's the sound of slamming door from far away, and the brunette finally leans back, shaking her head as if to clear it.

"I'll be right back," she assures Alison and the blonde nods, watching Emily walk away (and she tries to keep her eyes from falling to the brunette's ass but she fails, miserably, and Emily had always been beautiful but now she's hot as  _hell_ and sometimes Alison doesn't even know how she manages to speak around her).

"Are you two together, now?" The voice comes from behind her and at the sound of it Alison jumps, her heart hammering in her chest as she whirls around – but when she sees Paige standing there, watching her with wide, dark eyes, it doesn't slow down.

"I… No," she replies, and she wishes that Emily would come back sooner rather than later because she's alone with someone she'd hurt pretty badly and Paige had always had a bit of an anger management problem and Alison's terrified of saying the wrong thing.

"You look like you are." It's not an accusation, just an observation – and Alison has no idea how to reply. "If you're not then do you want to be? I know she still has feelings for you, but do you have them for her?"

"I…" The blonde thinks that this just might be the most awkward conversation she's ever had – she's dealt with angry exes before, girls screaming at her for messing around with their boyfriends, but never anything like this. "I care about her, yeah."

"Can you promise me something?" Paige asks as she casts a glance over the blonde's shoulder, and Alison turns to see Emily coming towards them, a frown of confusion on her face. "I still love her. I don't know how to stop… But I know she can't be with me if she's still in love with you. So will you just… can you just make her happy? Can you please do that? Because she deserves it. She deserves to be happy, for once. And if I can't give her that then… then she needs to be with someone who can."

Alison sees tears form behind the brunette's eyes and her heart aches for her, and she feels like she's stolen Paige's happiness away even though she knows it's a ridiculous thought, because Emily's a person and she made her own decisions and Alison never had a hand in anything that happened between the two of them, at least not directly.

"I… I'll try my best. I can promise you that." She manages a smile, but it's weak, and Paige's is more of a grimace before she nods and turns and walks away, just before Emily reaches them.

"What was that?" Emily asks, frowning in the general direction that Paige had gone, and Alison can only shrug, helplessly.

"Honestly? I don't even know. I thought she was going to yell at me or something but she just… She told me to make you happy."

"Oh." Emily looks like she doesn't know what to say, what to feel, and Alison can't really blame her seeing as she doesn't, either, and she has no real connection to Paige – not like the brunette does – and she's relieved when Emily changes the subject. "Well. Shall we go, then?"

"Sure." She climbs to her feet and slings her bag over her shoulder. "Do you mind if we stop at my place just so I can let Pepe outside and feed him?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I'd say we could bring him with us, but my Mom's not really a dog person."

"Yeah, I realized that on that night that I took you home. When I came down from your room they were sat staring at each other in the living room in some kind of stand-off." Emily chuckles softly at the mental picture, and Alison glances at the brunette as they walk, admiring the way that she lights up in the weak sunlight filtering down from the sky, and thinks that she's never seen anything so beautiful.

x-x-x

"Keep that door open!" Emily's Mom calls up the stairs after them as Alison's following the brunette up to her room, and she flushes at the elder woman's words.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry," Emily groans, mortified, and Alison laughs at the look of horror on her face.

"Does she know about… anything?"

"Not really. She knows bits and pieces." Emily shrugs as they reach her bedroom door, flinging it open and perching on the edge of her bed – Alison opts for the chair at the brunette's desk because the last time Emily had been on that bed with the blonde in the room she'd kissed her so hard that Alison could still feel the heat of the brunette's mouth against hers, even now. "She guessed that you meant more to me than a friend on that night that she invited you all over here – her true motivations." The brunette rolls her eyes, but Alison thinks that it's sweet. "And then she knows a little more. That I was drinking because we had a fight, but she doesn't know what about. She just suspects. Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know…. You've never been with a girl before. I figured it might freak you out."

"As long as she doesn't mention anything to my Dad before I get the chance, then I really don't see how it's an issue." Emily nods, thoughtfully, and Alison worries at her bottom lip – not only at the thought of what her Dad would say when he found out that she and Emily weren't just friends, but also because of the reason for her being here in the first place.

She'd known that she'd have to tell Emily about her summer in Cape May sooner rather than later. It was a big part of her past, something that still haunted her even now, sometimes, and she knows she can't commit to Emily with that hanging over her.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Emily says softly, and Alison smiles wryly, wondering when she'd become so easy to read.

"I know," she says haltingly, and she's never told a soul this story aside from CeCe – but even then, it was only parts. "But I… I want to. I  _need_ to. I just… I don't know how."

"Take your time." She nods and she clutches that tea that Emily had made for her before they'd come upstairs tightly in her hands as she tries to figure out where to even  _start_. "Can I ask you something first, though?" She glances up, nodding her ascent, and Emily looks like it's a struggle to get the words out. "Beach Hottie…" She trails off, and Alison waits, expectantly, anxiety bubbling up in her chest at the look on Emily's face. "It wasn't Detective Wilden, was it?"

"Detective Wilden?" She frowns, the name not sounding familiar, and shakes her head. "I don't know who that is."

"There was a picture of you and CeCe on a boat with him from that summer. CeCe said he just took you for a ride on it but… after one conversation with him she skipped town, and then not long after that he turned up dead and she was the prime suspect. It's why she needed to run away."

"Oh." Realization dawns, and she shakes her head. "No, it wasn't him. He really did just take us for a spin on his boat – though he wouldn't have minded a little more. Kept trying to get us to keep drinking, leering at us all the time. It was creepy." She shudders at the memory, remembers practically sprinting away as soon as they'd gotten back to shore. "Whatever CeCe got mixed up in with him, I don't know anything about it. But I didn't know him like that. And there's something else you wanna ask me, I can tell."

"It's just…" Emily takes a deep breath, and Alison braces herself. "CeCe said that… that you told her you were late. That whoever you were with would kill you if you were pregnant. And I just… were you?"

Emily's looking at her with guarded eyes, keeping her emotions close to her chest, but Alison can tell that she's upset by even having to ask – she thinks of Emily finding that out, of CeCe letting it slip, wonders how badly it had hurt her, and her heart clenches hard in her chest.

"Em, no, God, I… I  _was_ late, but I wasn't pregnant. I took a test. But I didn't have a chance to see CeCe again and tell her." Emily still looks upset, and Alison hates that she has to even talk about this at all, that she'd even  _gotten_ herself into that situation in the first place, that she'd been stupid enough to not use protection in a moment of madness.

"But it was with this guy? This guy who… who hurt you?" Alison can only nod, the words sticking in her throat. "Why did you… why did you stay with him? How could you rather be with someone like that over… over me? Was the thought of being with me really that bad?"

The brunette's voice breaks along with Alison's heart when she sees the look on Emily's face, and she's shaking her head even before the brunette's even finished speaking. "It wasn't like that Em, I swear to god."

"Then what  _was_ it like?"

"Okay." She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and starts to speak. "I met him my first weekend there, at some party on the beach CeCe dragged me to. And he was nice and he was charming and my mind was still so filled with the thought of you and I… I wanted to forget.

"I wanted to forget about the look on your face when I crushed your heart in the locker room, wanted to forget about how much I cared about you because I knew I wouldn't ever be able to allow myself to be with you. So I threw myself at this guy because I thought maybe if I drank enough I could pretend that he was you and I'd feel a little better about the fucked up decisions I'd made.

"I strung him around for a couple of weeks, tried to convince myself that he was a good guy and that I could be happy with him and that if I went back home with someone on my arm then maybe you could move on, and once you had then maybe I could, too.

"I didn't see the signs, at first. I thought it was sweet that he'd protect me whenever some asshole was leering at me or making lewd comments – I got a rush out of it, that someone cared enough to do that. But then one night he beat a guy up so bad that he was hospitalized and I realized that maybe it wasn't so great, after all.

"I started to pull away after that. But he noticed, and he didn't like it. He changed. Starting dictating when I could go out, where I could go, who I could go with. He got angry at me a lot, would yell at me for no reason. He hit me a couple of times, in places where nobody would ever be able to see the bruises."

"Ali." Emily's voice is horrified, and when she finally opens her eyes she sees the brunette looking at her with a whirlwind of emotion in her eyes – sympathy, anger, sadness, love. "You don't have to - "

"No. I want to." She takes a sip of her tea, tries to collect her thoughts. "I stayed with him. At first it wasn't even because I was scared to leave, though I was later on. There was a part of me that thought I deserved it. He told me I was worthless and I believed him. I was getting A texts left right and centre reminding me of what an awful person I was, about how many people I'd hurt, and when he put his hands on me I told myself that I'd brought it all on myself.

"And then… I was late. And I knew if I  _was_ pregnant, if he found out… that he'd do something awful to me. So I left in the middle of the night and I never looked back. I seem to be good at that." Her lips twist into a bitter smile. "I never even told him my real name, so I didn't have to worry about him finding me."

"Ali…" Emily says her name again, and when the brunette stretches a hand towards she takes it, allows herself to be hauled to her feet and enveloped in the comforting circle of Emily's arms, and she sighs in contentment as the brunette's hands slide around her waist and she fists her own in the material of Emily's jacket and she never wants to let go.

She closes her eyes and she relaxes into the embrace, drowning in the scent of Emily's perfume on her skin, her head pressed into the crook of her neck, the heat from the brunette's body warming her, and she wishes they could stay like that forever.

"I hate that that happened to you," Emily says in a fierce voice, before she's pressing her lips to the top of her head and Alison wants to cry because she's sure she doesn't deserve this sweetness from someone she's hurt so much.

"Bad things happen to bad people," she replies, her lips brushing against Emily's collarbone when she talks – the brunette shudders and Alison bites back a moan at the feeling of her. Emily reaches a hand up to cup her jaw, tilting the blonde's head to meet her gaze.

"Don't say that," she demands, her eyes dark and sombre, her thumb running along Alison's cheekbone. "You don't deserve what happened to you. Any of it. And I don't want to hear you say that you do ever again, you hear me?"

"Okay." She'd promise anything, like this, with Emily so close, her eyes dark and hypnotic, the touch of her hand against the bare skin of her cheek sending tingles down her spine, and her mouth so, so close. "I wish I'd stayed." Her voice is quiet, and Emily's eyes never leave hers. "I wish Mona would have left me alone, I wish I'd realized I was being an idiot about you. I wish I could've grown enough of a backbone to apologize for that day in the locker room. I wish I could've admitted to myself and to you that I wanted you."

"I wished for that a lot, too," Emily murmurs, in a voice soft as velvet. "But I always used to think that there's a right time and right place for everyone. And that wasn't ours. I wasn't ready to face who I was, and neither were you – we would've been a disaster, Ali, much as we might want to think otherwise. We never would have lasted. We probably wouldn't even still be friends."

She wants to refute Emily's words, claim that they would have found a way around it, but she knows the brunette's speaking the truth. She wasn't ready for a relationship when she was fifteen, certainly not one that she wanted to last forever (because that's what she wants, with Emily, now, because she knows that there's no-one else for her, even though the mere thought is nothing short of  _terrifying_ ) – and she's not entirely sure that she's ready for one now, but she knows she has to  _try_.

"So when's our time?"

"I really hope it's now." When Emily tangles a hand in her hair and brings their lips together, it doesn't surprise her, this time – her hands abandon their hold on Emily's jacket and instead fall to her hips, scrambling for purchase as she uses them to yank them closer together and it feels like they'll never be close  _enough._

Both of Emily's hands cradle her face as they kiss, and when her tongue dips into the blonde's mouth Alison moans, and the brunette kisses her slowly – torturously, devastatingly slowly – exploring every inch of her mouth until Alison is a trembling mess, and when she finally pulls away the blonde thinks she's in very real danger of melting into a puddle on the floor.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Once she starts kissing Alison, she doesn’t know how to stop.

She’d wanted it to stay sweet, a promise that what they had was precious to her, that she appreciated Alison spilling so much about her past even when it clearly still weighed so heavily on her mind – but as soon as she’d heard Alison’s moan when she was brave enough to slip her tongue between the blonde’s parted lips, she knew she was done for.

She ends up sat on the edge of her bed, Alison’s knees on either side of her hips, and the blonde has one hand tangled in her hair and the other wrapped around her neck. When Alison pulls away from her she takes Emily’s bottom lip with her, biting down just hard enough for it to sting, and when Emily’s eyes fly open as a soft groan is pulled from her throat she sees that Alison’s are dark and heated, and she wants to throw the blonde onto the bed, not allowing either of them to leave until she’s felt Alison writhing beneath her, until she’s made her come with Emily’s name on her lips.

“We should stop,” she says, her voice breathy as Alison’s eyes hold hers, and she wants to drown in them – drown in _Alison_ , wants to bury herself in the other woman until she can scarcely breathe. Her own hands rest on the blonde’s hips, thumbs dipping beneath the denim of the blonde’s jeans just enough to drive the both of them crazy.

“What if I don’t want to?” Alison practically purrs back, and Emily’s fingers clench without conscious thought, dragging the blonde closer to her as she smirks.

“We should,” Emily repeats, though she makes no move to push Alison away, and she looks so, so beautiful with her hair mussed from Emily’s fingers, her cheeks flushed and her lips bruised from the force of their kisses. “We don’t want to do anything we might regret.”

“If you think I’d regret doing _anything_ ,” Alison’s voice lowers, her voice rough, and Emily wants to tremble beneath the weight of what it does to her, “with you, then you’ve very much mistaken.”

“But still,” Emily insists, because she wants to take this slow, she wants to do this _right_ , she doesn’t want to rush into anything.

“We don’t have to _do_ anything.”

“If you keep kissing me like that then it will lead to things, believe me.” Just the first brush of their lips together had set her alight, an ache starting in her stomach before travelling down to her thighs, and she knows beneath her jeans she’s slick with want, and if that’s what just _kissing_ Alison DiLaurentis does to her then she’s not sure she’ll survive the blonde’s heated touch against her bare skin.

(But God, she wants it, she _craves_ it with a desire that she’s never known until now, and it clouds her mind and her thoughts until it completely takes over and she has no idea how to _stop_ it).

“You’re no fun,” Alison pouts, but she does move so that she’s no longer straddling the brunette’s lap, rising to her feet and leaning against Emily’s desk, instead, running a hand through her hair as she notices the state of it in the mirror. 

“Oh, I’m _plenty_ fun,” she says, her voice an octave lower than usual, and Alison’s eyes snap from her reflection to the brunette’s, her lips parting slightly as she sucks in a harsh breath, and Emily smirks. “Believe me.”

“Girls?” The sound of her Mom’s voice interrupts their conversation, and as the elder woman stomps deliberately loudly up the stairs, Emily rolls her eyes at how _obvious_ she’s being – she’s been unbearable, the last couple of days, with how long she’d been spending with Alison.

She almost _missed_ her Mom asking every five seconds if she was okay over the weekend, because now it had turned into: ‘so have you and Alison worked things out?’, ‘have you spoken to Alison today?’, ‘is she your girlfriend?’, ever since she’d rang her to ask if it would be okay for her to go to the blonde’s after school yesterday.

“Yeah, Mom?” Emily asks as she pokes her head around the doorframe, and she hopes that neither she nor Alison look like they’ve just been making out like their life depended on it because she _so_ does not need her asking even _more_ questions.

“I was just wondering if Alison was staying for dinner?” She directs the question towards both of them, and Emily shrugs and just glances over at the blonde because it’s her call – though she’d be surprised if she’d rather go home to an empty house than spend it here.

“I… is that okay?” The blonde asks, nervously, and Emily almost rolls her eyes again – Alison had just had her tongue in Emily’s mouth and yet she still thought the brunette didn’t want to spend any time with her.

“Of course it is!” Her Mom gushes, and Emily’s eyes flutter closed, shaking her head slightly – it changes to a smile when she sees the look of amusement on Alison’s face.

“Em?”

“As long as my Mom behaves herself, sure.” She throws the elder woman a sweet smile as she narrows her eyes, and watches Alison bite back a laugh.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” her Mom mutters. “It’ll be ready in about half an hour, if you want to come down then.” Emily nods and her Mom turns to leave, but not before purposefully opening the door as wide as she possibly can and throwing Emily a meaningful look – the brunette groans when she’s gone, collapsing back on her bed and staring up at the ceiling.

“She is _impossible_.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Alison murmurs, a fond smile on her face when Emily lifts her head to meet the blonde’s gaze.

“It is _not_. It’s _embarrassing_.”

“Was she like this with Maya? And Paige?”

“No,” Emily shakes her head, grimacing as she remembers the first time Maya had eaten dinner with her parents. “She didn’t… she was _difficult_ , about my sexuality, at first. She didn’t know how to accept it.” Alison frowns in sympathy, but Emily waves her off. “It’s fine. I mean, it wasn’t at the time, but… She came around to it, eventually. I don’t think she did, even when she told me it was okay, that she was fine with Maya and I being together. I think she put on a brave face but I don’t think she still really… _understood_ me. But she tried and that was okay.”

She hasn’t ever really talked about those few weeks, where her Mom had forced a smile whenever she saw her and Maya together, whenever the brunette mentioned her girlfriend in the house or was on the phone to her. It was different from the outward hostility she’d gotten at first, before Maya had been sent away – but still managed to make her feel like she was doing something wrong.

“But then, when Maya died… when she saw what that did to me… I think it was then that she finally got it. That she accepted who I was and that I wasn’t going to change and it sucks that it was before she really got to see what an awesome person Maya was, but… at least it happened in the end, I guess.”

She thinks that a part of her Mom feels a terrible guilt, because she’d had a part in sending Maya away to True North, where she’d met her eventual killer – and it would be easy for Emily to blame her for it, to harbour resentment, hot and angry, for losing the girl who’d made her realize that it was okay to be true to herself, the first one to love her so openly and so selflessly, but she can’t.

She’d spent a summer in Haiti working until her fingers bled, avoiding everyone from her life if Rosewood – her friends, her family – instead comforting herself with a bottle of vodka and the company of the other volunteers out there with her, and all it had made her realize was that she _needed_ them, the people she’d left behind.

Because she was empty enough without the loss of them, her heart bare and gaping, the hole within it so large that she hadn't known if she’d ever be able to recover, but she’d realized, as she walked out of the arrivals section of the airport and found the four girls and both of her parents there waiting for her, that she couldn’t survive without them.

So she’d forgiven her Mom, and ever since she’d been uber-supportive of her dating life. She’d gone out of her way with Paige, aware that the brunette’s home life was difficult, sometimes, had made sure she was always welcome, and Emily had loved her for it.

What she _doesn’t_ love, though, is when she does the same with Alison, especially considering they’re not even officially together.

(Not yet, anyway, she tells herself, though she wants to ask the question, knows the answer will be yes, but she just doesn’t… she’s so scared of messing this up, of saying the wrong thing too soon, that she’s content for now to bite her tongue and wait).

“I’m sorry,” Alison says softly, and she comes to sit beside the brunette on the bed, taking her hand and twining their fingers together. “I had no idea that she had a problem with it.”

“You missed a lot while you were gone.” She doesn’t mean it with malice, but she sees Alison flinch all the same. “You know what I mean.”

“I know. It’s just… I know it’s hard for you, that I left you behind but it’s… it’s hard for me, too, to realize how much I missed.” The blonde’s expression turns sombre, her eyes sad. “Even simple stuff… there wasn’t much time to keep up with TV and celebrity gossip while I was away.”

“What was it like?” She has to ask, because she hasn’t really dared to before, has no idea what kind of conditions Alison had been living in for the past two years.

“Awful,” the blonde replies honestly, her voice bleak. “Sometimes I wished that I’d stayed, convinced myself that Mona’s torture wasn’t as bad. I nearly came back a few times but I didn’t… I didn’t know _how_ to.” Her eyes catch Emily and she tries to smile but it’s more of a grimace. “I didn’t know how to explain why I’d done what I’d done. And when I found out that A was after the four of you, too, I knew I couldn’t, that you’ve never forgive me for abandoning you to that.”

“We would’ve just been glad to know that you were okay,” Emily insists, but Alison shakes her head with a sad little smile.

“No, you wouldn’t,” she says quietly, head ducking so that she’s staring at their joined hands instead of into Emily’s eyes. “Everything that’s happened to you, the four of you… it’s my fault. There wouldn’t be an A if I wasn’t such a bitch and I couldn’t… I didn’t know to come back to you and make it okay. I thought you’d blame me for it. And you were the only reason I’d have to come back, because what else is there here for me, Em? A whole high school of people who hate me? And a few others that _aren’t_ at Rosewood High. My _family_?” She scoffs, but there’s pain in her eyes, too, and Emily feels her heart clench for Alison, because she doesn’t know what it’s like to have a messy and unhappy childhood, to have a brother who seems to hate you and a father who’s never around.

“I don’t blame you.” Alison scoffs again and Emily raises her free hand, pressing two fingers under the blonde’s chin and tilting her head, forcing blue eyes to meet brown. “I don’t. It wasn’t _you_ who started sending those texts, it wasn’t you who made us suffer.”

“But if not for me - ”

“You can't blame yourself for the things that other people do,” Emily interrupts, voice fierce as she holds Alison’s gaze. “Okay?” The blonde eventually nods, albeit reluctantly, and Emily presses a gentle kiss to her cheek before pulling away.

“You really want to know what it was like, being on the run?” Alison asks after a few moments of silence, and Emily _had_ but hadn't wanted to bring it up again after the blonde hadn't revealed many details to her.

“If you wanna tell me.” Alison’s eyes drop to the floor as she worries at her bottom lip, and Emily just sits and waits, brushing her thumb across the back of the blonde’s hand gently. When Alison eventually speaks, her voice is quiet. 

“I was practically homeless. No-one notices you if you’re a street kid, and seeing as I needed to stay hidden considering my picture was everywhere… that’s how I got by. After a few weeks I’m not sure anyone would have been able to recognise me, anyway. I was a shadow of who I used to be – I was terrified of being found by A, of being found by the police and being dragged kicking and screaming back to the mother who’d buried me in the ground and left me there to rot.”

There’s a bitterness in the blonde’s voice that Emily’s never heard before, and the intensity of it scares her, a little, and Alison clutches at her hand so hard that her knuckles turn white, drawing on Emily for the strength the continue, and the brunette wants to tell her to stop, that she doesn’t have to explain, but the words stick in her throat, captivated with a sick sort of fascination by the glimpse she’s being offered into a world that she’d only been able to guess at ever since she’d found out that Alison was alive.

“I knew I had people I could count on in CeCe, Shana, Noel – though now I realize I was stupid to trust any of them in the first place, and maybe it’s a miracle I lasted as long as I did – but I knew I couldn’t contact them right away or I’d give myself away.

“So I lived in squalor for a few months. I found an abandoned warehouse with a few others and I stayed there and we could barely manage to get enough food to keep us going, to keep us _alive_ , but somehow we managed.

“And then I trusted the wrong guy because I was _stupid_ ,” Alison says the word with a vehemence that makes Emily flinch, and the blonde throws her an apologetic look before continuing, “and naïve and I was so _desperate_ for human contact that I was blinded by someone showing any interest in me whatsoever. 

“He stayed with me for three days before his girlfriend showed up. And then he took my stuff – pictures of the four of you, the little money I’d managed to save up to try and get me out of there. And when I tried to stop him he… he stabbed me and he left me there to bleed.”

Emily is horrified by the blonde’s words, regrets asking her to open up in the first place, and she wonders when there was last a time in Alison’s life when she’d felt safe and wanted and _loved_ and from what she’s learned about her recently she wonders if she ever has.

“I had to go to the hospital. There was a free clinic where I went to clean up and the doctor there helped me out. He told me about a shelter I could go to, where they’d put a roof over my head and make sure I was fed, at least for a little while.

“So I went there and I called Noel and had him bring me some stuff. I made myself look like a real person again, and not just an empty shell, put on the Vivian Darkbloom wig and got myself a job working in some shady bar.

“And it wasn’t the best and most of the guys in there were complete sleazes, but they tipped well and it was enough for me to live off and it wasn’t perfect but… it was all I had, for a while. And I started to think that maybe I’d be okay, that I could save up and try and finish school and then try and make something of myself… and then I found out that A was coming after the four of you and I knew I’d never to just be able to leave my old life behind. I thought that I might be able to help you from afar, so I watched and I waited and I slipped up a few times and visited all of you at some point. I just… I had to see you, even if you thought it was just a dream.”

“Like when you pulled me out of the barn,” Emily focuses on that instead of the rest of the blonde’s tale, doesn’t want to think about the things she must have gone through during those past two years because the thought makes her feel sick.

“I was crazy that day. I was so worried about you, terrified that I’d be too late.”

“But you weren’t. And it’s not the first time you’ve saved me.” She remembers the day she’d nearly been sawed in half and shudders. “You’re not all bad, Ali. You risked yourself to save me, to see the others.”

She sees tears behind the blonde’s eyes before they’re blinked away, and she decides to change the subject, aware that they’ve dwelled on dark topics for too long that night already, and it was barely past six.

“So, you said you didn’t get to watch much of anything while you were gone?” The blonde looks relieved that they’re straying out of emotionally painful territory, and nods her head. “Well, then, after dinner I’m just gonna _have_ to start giving you an education on what you’ve missed.”

x-x-x

“How are you finding being back at school, Alison?” Her Mom asks as they’re settling at the dinner table, Alison at her side and her Mom opposite them, and her voice is warm and Emily’s grateful for her because god knows Alison needs an adult in her life that isn’t completely messed up and actually _cares_.

“It’s… okay.” The blonde’s voice isn’t convincing, and under the table Emily rests a hand on her thigh for a brief second, wanting to comfort her – but when she hears Alison’s sharp intake of breath she quickly pulls away. “Difficult, but,” she shrugs, “I’ll manage.”

“You’re in classes with younger kids, right?”

“Yeah.” The blonde makes a face and Emily smiles wryly, knowing how much she hates it. “On the plus side not many of them remember me before, but… it’s humiliating.”

“At least you’re not out of your depth,” Emily’s Mom tries to cheer her up, her eyes sympathetic. “I imagine you can't have learned much while… you were away.” Emily isn’t too sure if her Mom’s accepted Alison’s story yet or not, but she appreciates the other woman not calling the blonde out on it, trusting that her daughter knew what she was doing.

(Whether that was the right call or not remained to be seen).

“I guess,” Alison mutters, a little darkly, and Emily takes that as her cue to steer the conversation towards a more upbeat topic, and the rest of the meal passes comfortably. Alison and her Mom have always gotten on well, but the blonde is especially charming tonight, laughing and joking and more animated than Emily’s seen her in a while and it’s _nice_ , it has her at ease, too, a smile on her face as she watches them fondly.

“Are we okay to watch a movie in there?” Emily asks, nodding her head towards the living room once she’s helped clear away the dishes and her Mom’s waved her away when she tried to start the washing up – she doesn’t trust herself and Alison alone in her bedroom with the lights dimmed watching something on her TV, because the only place to sit really is her bed and she’s not entirely sure that she’ll be able to keep her hands to herself for the entirety of it, and at least down here she’ll be forced to be on her best behaviour.

“Sure,” her Mom replies easily as she leans against the sink. “I have some work to catch up on anyway so I’ll be in the study if you need me.” She nods before turning to leave, going back to Alison who’s still sat at the table, playing around on her phone, and calling her into the other room.

“What are we watching?” The blonde asks as she settles on the couch, Emily setting up the DVD player on the TV.

“You’ll see,” Emily replies mysteriously, and when Alison pouts at her she just grins, sliding the disk in before moving to join the blonde, curling up beside her and pressing play. 

“Easy A?” Alison asks when the opening credits come up on the screen, and Emily hums softly in reply. “What’s it about?” The brunette rolls her eyes at the blonde’s question – Alison is the type of person who loves spoilers, loves knowing what’s going to happen before it does, and she’s _also_ the type of person who will happily chatter her way through an entire movie, when Emily is the complete opposite.

Luckily she finds it endearing.

“Why don’t you _watch_ it and find out?” She challenges, meeting Alison’s gaze and raising an eyebrow, and the blonde sighs dramatically before turning away to face the TV – and she knows from just the first two minutes that the blonde’s engrossed and congratulates herself on a movie well picked.

Towards the middle they end up shifting, Alison curling up into her side, eyes still fixed firmly forward (Emily’s found herself getting distracted, on more than one occasion, more content with watching the blonde’s reactions that the movie itself), and she can't resist the temptation to sling an arm over the back of Alison’s shoulders and pull her closer, and she sees Alison’s lips quirk into a small smile and Emily feels an answering smile spread across her own face.

The blonde’s head tilts to rest on her shoulder, snuggling further into her until Emily isn’t entirely sure where she ends and Alison begins, the blonde a warm heat against her side, and after that Emily can't pay attention to whatever’s on-screen – she’s too busy drawing patterns on Alison’s bare shoulder, feeling the way she shudders at the sensation every few minutes.

When the movie finishes Emily never wants to move, wants to spend the rest of her life there on that couch with Alison in her arms, where everything feels so _easy_ and there’s none of the outside world able to creep in and ruin her perfect moment… but she knows she has to get up, she has to take the blonde home and she has to really _think_ about what she’s getting herself into with Alison

(Even though she knows she’ll take it, because really, she’d never had a chance of turning her down, not really – certainly not since she’d read those letters, gotten an insight into the blonde’s mind that she’d been craving for _years_ ).

“I should get home,” Alison eventually murmurs, her voice quiet and Emily nods in silent agreement even though she never wants her to leave. “Thank you for today. I’ve had fun. It’s nice, to be able to have… a _normal_ day, for once. Do you know what I mean?”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” she replies as Alison’s rising to her feet, stretching her arms above her head and making a soft noise of approval as her joints click – Emily is too mesmerised by the thin strip of skin along the small of Alison’s back that’s revealed by the move to notice anything else, doesn’t realize that the blonde’s carried on talking until she turns and waves a hand her face.

“Hello? Earth to Emily.” She flushes as Alison smirks, clearly knowing the reason for her distraction. “You doing okay there?” She teases, voice light, and Emily takes the hand that’s extended towards her, uses Alison as leverage to haul herself to her feet.

“I’ll just go and tell my Mom I’m taking you home,” she says, pointedly ignoring the blonde’s comment, but she’s stopped by a hand on her arm.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’ll take me like two seconds,” she protests. “It’s a two minute drive or a five minute walk. You shouldn’t be out there alone at night, Ali. It’s not safe for you.”

“It’s not safe for you, either,” the blonde counters, folding her arms across her chest in a stance that Emily is fast becoming used to as Alison’s ‘stubborn look’. “ _Especially_ after what you did today to Mona. She’ll be after you.”

“And she’s already after _you_. Not to mention there’s an A around every corner. I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to,” Alison says softly, her eyes unusually serious. “You _shouldn’t_ have to, Em.”

“But I do.” Her voice turns pleading, as she lets spill more honesty on a day that’s become filled with so many truths. “I worry about you every second I’m not with you, Ali. I worry that something will happen, and that I won't be there in time to save you, this time. Walking in that day in your house, when they had that scarf around your neck… I couldn’t… I couldn’t even _think_ I was so terrified. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“And you _won’t_.” Alison steps closer, slides her arms around the brunette’s waist until they’re chest-to-chest, and the warmth from the blonde’s body comforts her more than words ever will. “I’m being careful. I managed two years on the run, Em, I can take care of myself.”

“But A wasn’t after you, then. At least not like they are now.” She cups the side of the blonde’s face, runs a thumb across her cheek and then over her jaw, trailing her index finger torturously slowly down the blonde’s neck and watching the way Alison’s lips part as her breath hitches, feels the pounding of her pulse beneath her fingertips, and she wants to follow the trail she’s made with her mouth a hundred times over, learn every spot that makes Alison tremble beneath the pressure of her tongue.

“If they wanted me dead I would be already.” She says it so matter-of-factly, and Emily wonders when their lives had gotten so messed up that saying something like that could be _normal_ , but Alison’s breathing is uneven and she’s distracted by the flush that spreads across her cheeks as Emily’s fingers splay across her shoulder, thumb brushing across a dainty collarbone before settling in the hollow of the blonde’s throat.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not still terrified.”

“You can’t live your life in fear, Em.” Alison’s hands lock around her back, bumping her closer until there’s not an inch of space between them, her eyes dark as she tilts her head up before they flutter closed. “I have and it’s not something I recommend.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore.” The blonde’s head drops to rest on her shoulder, settled in the crook of her neck and Emily’s startled by how intimate this feels, never knew that just holding someone in her arms could be so comforting.

“I’m always scared,” Alison murmurs back in a small voice, her hands tightening around Emily’s back. “I’m scared that I’ll lose you. Terrified that I’ll say the wrong thing and I’ll send you running and I know that the next time it happens I won’t get you back. I’m terrified of hurting you again. I’m scared of letting you in, because I don’t know if I can. I’ve never had to before and it… the thought of someone knowing me so intimately, of being so _involved_ with another person is…”

“The scariest thing in the world,” Emily answers softly, because it is, she’s _had_ that feeling – and she knows it’s nothing like what Alison’s experiencing, because the blonde is the most guarded person she’s ever known, but… she can try and empathize, at least. “But I’m not going anywhere, Ali. I can’t. God knows I’ve tried – but you’ve always been right _here -_ ” She takes one of the blonde’s hands and presses it to her chest, to where her heart beats fast in her chest, “and I don’t think you’re ever going to leave. And for the first time that no longer feels like a bad thing. For the first time it’s something I _want_ , it feels _right_ and I don’t ever want it to go away.”

“You’ve always been in here, too.” Alison takes their entwined hands and rests them against her own heart, instead, and Emily’s mind moves a hundred times a minute because she can feel the thin material of Alison’s bra beneath her shirt and _god_ she’s going to hell.  “I was just too dense to accept it.”

“Well, you _are_ the most stubborn person I know,” Emily teases, meeting the blonde’s gaze and cracking a smile when Alison’s eyes narrow. “What? It’s true.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to point it _out_.” Alison steps away from her and her grins turns to a pout. “You can take me home,” she says, then, as she bends to grab the jacket she’d discarded before they’d put the movie on and shrugging it over her shoulders. “If we drive. I don’t want you walking back alone.”

“Alright. Be right back.” She takes a step closer to brush a kiss against the blonde’s lips before seeking out her Mom – she tells her she’ll be back in ten minutes and returns to the living room where Alison waits, takes her hand and pulls her out the door.

They drive mostly in silence, and when Emily pulls to a stop in the DiLaurentis’ driveway she’s surprised by the wave of disappointment that rocks through her, knowing that their day together has come to an end.

It had almost felt like a date, from start to finish – the blonde waiting for her after school, the dinner (even if her Mom _was_ present for all of it), followed by the movie. And it feels ridiculous to think of it like that because they haven’t defined… whatever this is and she’s all too aware, in the back of her mind, that it was barely a week ago that she’d found those pictures of Alison and Noel and her world had come crashing down around her.

And it’s dizzying, how much things have changed since then. Just five days ago Alison had found her on a park bench drinking her sorrows away, too confused and too hurt and too _overwhelmed_ to do anything other than press a bottle to her lips and ignore the taste of the alcohol as it slid down her throat, hoping it would chase away the memories she was so desperate to forget.

And now they’re here, in this place, and she has no idea how they got there. And all of her friends’ warnings come back to her, and she wonders, despite how much her heart yearns for the woman sat beside her, if she’s jumping into things before she’s truly ready, blinded by what she wants to hear.

That’s not to say that she doubts Alison, because she’s seen more vulnerability from her in the last two days alone than she has in the entirety of their friendship, and she’s sure the blonde’s being sincere with her for maybe the first time ever. But that doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t be careful, because she can't shake the feeling that the high she’s feeling now will come crashing down around her if she rushes into this.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” Alison’s voice tears her from her thoughts, so unexpectedly that she jumps, and when she turns to see the blonde worrying nervously at her bottom lip looking like she, too, is deep in thought, Emily almost laughs.

“Believe it or not, I was just thinking the same thing.”

“I guess that’s a yes, then.” Alison’s lips quirk into a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It almost feels stupid,” Emily murmurs as her eyes meet the blonde’s across the console, and when Alison reaches for her hand she takes it without hesitation, twining their fingers together. “To feel like I’d be rushing into something that I’ve been waiting three years for.”

“It’s not stupid,” Alison replies quietly. “It’s smart.”

“Feels mostly stupid.” The blonde’s thumb rubs against the back of her hand and she finds even such a simple touch to be distracting, disarming, and it’s astounding, the effect this woman can have on her.

“So what do you want to do?” Alison asks then, her eyes dark and sombre. “About us? If we both feel like we’re moving too quickly then…” She trails off, and if Emily had ever doubted Alison’s feelings before, the uncertainty and doubt and _worry_ in her eyes in that moment would almost be enough to convince her alone.

“I think we should give it a week,” she answers, with more conviction than she really feels, “only see each other at school, keep our hands to ourselves while we’re there… avoid being alone together because I can't be anymore without wanting to kiss you and _that’s_ not going to help anything.” Alison smiles, wryly, and Emily blazes on before the blonde comes out with a smug comment that will make her slip and kiss her _now_ , and she’s not sure she’ll have the strength to finish what she’s saying with the taste of Alison’s lips so fresh in her mind. “And see how we feel at the end of it. Then we’re not rushing, there’s time to think it through…. And if it’s as unbearable as I think it’ll be, then we’ll know, at the end of it, that we’re doing the right thing.”

“A week?” Alison asks, and Emily nods, because she thinks they should take a least a few days but not too many because she’s not quite sure that she’ll be able to survive it. “Okay.” Alison nods, a conflicted look passing over her face, and then she leans across the console, curls a hand around the back of Emily’s neck and kisses her, _hard_ , and the breath leaves Emily’s lungs in a rush, a groan echoing into Alison’s mouth as the blonde’s tongue pushes into her mouth – and just as soon as it started she’s gone, leaning back with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest and Emily can do nothing but stare at her in shock.

“What was _that_ for?” She manages to say between gasps to try and get her breath back, and Alison’s smirk is wicked as she closes a hand around the door handle and pushes it open.

“To tide you over for the next week,” she calls over her shoulder, and Emily can only stare dumbly as she slides out of the car, stands outside the door looking in at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turns and walks away as though she _hadn’t_ just kissed Emily so hard that she’s practically seeing stars, and as she watches Alison disappear into the front door of her house her lips still tingle from the force of the blonde’s kisses and now she’s _really_ not sure that she’ll be able to survive the next seven days.

Alison DiLaurentis is _definitely_ going to be the death of her.

 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been an age since I updated this, and I can't apologise enough - uni's been kicking my ass lately and time to write has been non-existent. I'm hoping it won't take me so long to update again, but no promises! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been so patient in waiting for this, and is still along for the ride, I appreciate it so, so much.

"Well hey there, gorgeous." Alison rolls her eyes at the sound of the voice coming from the silver car that pulls up on the curb where she's waiting, and when she glances through the open passenger door window she sees the guy within grinning, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Need a ride?"

"You're ridiculous," she says as she pulls the door open and slides into the seat, but there's a smile creeping across her face as she shuts the door and clips her seatbelt in before turning to face the guy who she'd become fast friends with over the past few days – Matt had been a lifesaver in keeping her sane through her Emily-separation. "What would your boyfriend say if he heard you?"

"Well seeing as he knows I'm pretty much the gayest fucking person on earth, I don't think he'd be too concerned." Alison laughs as Matt pulls away from the curb, shaking her head. "He's coming up to visit next weekend, you should meet him. You can even bring your girlfriend."

"She's not - "

"Oh, I'm sorry, your  _not_ -girlfriend." Alison doesn't need to be looking at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. "What is it, now, day five? You not cracked yet?"

"No. And I'm not going to."

"I don't know why. It's a stupid idea, if you ask me."

"I didn't," she points out, but there's no malice in her voice. Ever since she came back to Rosewood she's had no-one in her life to confide in, not really –the girls were too mistrusting of her (and she doesn't blame them,  _can't_ blame them, but that doesn't make it any easier for her, because yeah, she'd gotten used to being alone, with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company… but she'd come  _home_ , had expected to  _have_ people in her life again and to feel like she hadn't ever really stopped being alone was…  _hard_ ), and everyone else in town was too busy talking  _about_ her to actually make an effort to get to  _know_ her and she knows she's not the most approachable person in the world.

And now she'd (stupidly) agreed to stay away from Emily for a whole  _week_ , just when they'd started to get somewhere. And she knows that it's a good idea, that time and space is what they both need before either of them are ready to commit to something that Alison is sure, now, that she wants to last forever.

But it's  _hard_ , to see Emily only at school, to barely speak to her. She misses the sound of the brunette's voice, she misses her smile, she misses  _everything_ about her and it's  _pathetic_ how much she needs Emily Fields in her life, and she'd never expected to be so in  _love_ with another person and it's… terrifying but she's never felt so  _sure_ of anything in her entire life.

Staying away was  _torture_ , and she'd found herself in desperate need of something to distract her. So when Stephen from the stables had called her on the evening when she and Emily had agreed to keep some distance between them and asked if she wanted a job, she'd agreed without even thinking about it, because nothing sounded better to her than getting to spend her time doing something she loved and getting  _paid_ for it –  _and_ it kept her mind (mostly) from straying to thoughts of Emily.

That's where she'd met Matt. He'd shown her the ropes on the first day, had made her laugh more times than she had since she'd come back to Rosewood in a single hour, and they'd been inseparable pretty much ever since. And it's  _nice_ to have a friend who doesn't know everything about her, who doesn't see her as the girl who'd come back from the dead, who had no idea who she'd been before she'd disappeared.

She knows that he's aware of who she is, but he's never asked her for any details, never tries to get her to reveal anything more than she's willing to give, and for the first time in maybe her entire life she feels like she has a friend who likes her purely just for  _her_ , someone who she hasn't tried (or felt like she  _had_ ) to manipulate into sticking around and it's such a foreign feeling to her but it's  _amazing_ at the same time.

"Seriously, though," Matt says as he pulls into the parking lot at the stables (he'd offered to give her a lift there and back when he'd overheard her arguing with her dad about being able to pick her up on her second day of working there), "it's stupid. If you  _both_ want to be together, and you both  _know_ you want to be together… then why wait?"

"I told you," she says with a sigh as they both slide out of the car and head towards the office to find Stephen so he can tell them what they need to do that day. "We have - "

"A lot of issues to work through, yeah, yeah," Matt cuts her off with a wave of his hand. "You said. But you're not gonna work through them by not talking to each other, are ya?" She doesn't answer, and he grins. "See, you're ignoring me because I'm right. As always."

"You weren't right when you asked me if the reason I was spending so much time down here was because I was trying to forget about an ex- _boy_ friend," she points out, glancing around the office to see that Stephen isn't there yet and leaning against the side of the desk with her hip.

"Hey, I was close, okay? Maybe my gaydar was a little off - " Alison's mouth opens and he rolls his eyes, guessing what she's going to say, "yes I  _know_ you're only gay for her and no-one else, it's just a figure of speech – but you were still pining after someone."

"She's not my ex, either."

"Semantics." Alison shakes her head, trying to hide a smile and is saved from having to answer Matt as Stephen strolls through the door with his hands buried in his pockets.

"Ah, good, you're both here," he says by way of greeting as he immediately turns back around and heads out of the door, beckoning for the two of them to follow him. "There's quite the list for you guys to do today, if you can fit it all in…"

x-x-x

"Is it okay if I sit here?" The uncertain voice has her head snapping up so quickly that her neck cracks, loudly – she's become so accustomed to eating her lunch (alone) as quickly as she possibly can whilst trying to ignore the whispers and the staring (which admittedly are getting better, gradually), before shutting herself away in the library where she can get some peace, that to have someone actually  _talk_ to her in the cafeteria is a rarity that she hasn't really experienced since she came back.

And the fact that it's  _Emily's_ voice sets her heart racing, and when their eyes meet there's uncertainty written over the brunette's face, as if she fears that Alison would actually be able to bring herself to say  _no_.

"I… uh, yeah, of course you can." She's confused, more than anything – the brunette's been keeping her distance, and Alison has been following her lead, and Emily's never really sought her out over the past few days, and she's sure her confusion is written all over her face because Emily smiles apologetically as she slides into the seat opposite her.

"Sorry," she starts, avoiding the blonde's gaze and picking absently at the salad on the tray in-front of her, and Alison takes advantage of Emily's distraction, letting her eyes take in the sight of the brunette because god, she's missed her and it's pathetic and stupid but she doesn't  _care_. "I just… I needed to talk to you."

"Okay…" Alison trails off, not liking the sound of that, coupled with Emily's obvious agitation, and she worries at her bottom lip as she waits for the brunette to elaborate, watches as she takes a deep breath before lifting her head and meeting the blonde's gaze, and her eyes are guarded and Alison's heart clenches in her chest, terrified that Emily's going to say that she can't do this anymore, that the distance has proved to her that she doesn't need Alison in her life anymore, after all, that maybe they should just be friends.

Fear settles in her chest at the mere thought, paralyzing her until she feels like she can barely breathe, panic rising within her because the thought of watching Emily walk away for good is soul-destroying.

"Ali, hey," Emily's voice is laced with concern, a warm hand curling around Alison's wrist and her eyes dart down as the brunette squeezes gently. "Where did you go just now?"

"Is this… are you… are you done with me?" Even though her throat feels closed up she forces out the words, watches as Emily blinks in confusion, a frown settling between her eyebrows that has a flutter of hope rising in Alison's chest.

"What?" Surprise colours the word, but the blonde refuses to feel relief until she knows just what, exactly, Emily had come over her to talk to her about. "God, no, Ali, that's not… that's not it. Like I'd be cruel enough to do that to you in the school cafeteria – as if the food wasn't bad enough."

Alison knows that she's trying to lighten the situation, that she's just joking, but just the mere insinuation that Emily might still leave her has her panic rising again, and it's  _stupid_ because they're not even together for her  _to_ leave, but she's been so  _hopeful_ since last week, since leaving Emily in her car after that bruising kiss (that she'd felt, all over, for  _days_ afterwards – even now she can still feel the ghost of it, and the memory fills her with warmth), that they could actually make this  _work_.

That she might still have a chance, in spite of all the things she's done, even after she'd convinced herself that she wasn't worth a second chance, that she wasn't worth  _anything_  – definitely not the time or effort of someone like Emily Fields.

"Ali," Emily's voice brings her out of her spiral of despairing thoughts, and when she snaps her gaze back to the brunette the concern swimming in her brown eyes grounds her, as does the absent patterns Emily's weaving across the skin of her arm with her fingertips – it's an innocent touch, but it makes her shudder all the same, and she can feel the echo of it all the way down to her toes. "I was just joking. I'm not going anywhere. I know you know that."

"It's just that… nothing good ever comes out of someone saying 'we need to talk'. Ever." With her fears soothed by Emily's gentle touch and words, her earlier worry floods back into her, intensifies when Emily sighs softly and runs her free hand through her hair.

"It's nothing bad, it's just…" The brunette trails off, looking almost like she wishes she'd never spoken at all, and Alison flushes at her over-the-top reaction, because she  _never_ wants to make Emily feel like she can't speak honestly to her – too many lies have separated them before, and she doesn't want to pave the way for more.

"Just?" She prompts, trying to hold the brunette's gaze but Emily's eyes drop to the table, her voice a reluctant mumble when she next speaks.

"A got into contact with me again."

"Saying what?" She asks when it becomes clear that Emily's not offering up any more information, her voice taut with worry because  _that's_ never a good thing.

"They had some more photos for me." Emily sighs, and Alison frowns in confusion, because she doesn't know what else A could have on her than what Emily's already seen. When the brunette glances up and sees her expression she sighs again before reaching into her bag and tossing an envelope onto the table.

There's writing scrawled across the front in red pen ( _how well you_ really  _know Alison? Still think you're the only one for her? Look in here and you'll see that you're still as naïve as ever – Noel isn't the only one who can take a pretty picture_ ), and Alison tips the envelope upside down on the table in-front of her, grabbing the six photos that pour out and laying them face-up – and has to choke back a laugh when she recognises one of the people in them.

"Is something about this amusing to you?" Emily asks sharply, and all amusement flees from Alison's body at the tone of her voice, immediately sheepish.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just… A isn't as smart as they think they are."

"Explain."

"Well, they obviously showed you these in the hope that it'd drive us apart just like the last ones. They probably didn't expect you to come to me and outright ask me about them – and if they  _did_ expect that then they clearly haven't been watching me very closely at all."

"Why?"

"Because this," she stabs a finger down on one of the photos, a little more savagely than she'd originally planned (but the bastard kinda deserved it), "is Cyrus. I already told you about him."

"The guy that stabbed you?" Anger flashes in Emily's eyes as she glances down at the picture. In it she and Cyrus are holding hands, and the memory of it sets her own rage simmering – it was just the next day that he'd left her for dead.

"That would be the one."

"So you think A doesn't know what we've been talking about," Emily muses, and Alison nods, the thought only slightly comforting – because she still can't see the bigger picture, doesn't know A's exact plan, and it drives her  _insane_. "But then who's this guy? Because I know this has been taken since you came back to Rosewood."

"That," Alison says, no longer able to hide her smile. "Is my friend Matt. I got a job at the stables, he works there too and because he only lives a couple of streets away so he offered to give me a lift – hence me being in his car." It's a little disconcerting, to know that someone's following her, taking photographs of her without her knowledge – but then she supposes in the grand scheme of things, it's not exactly the worst thing that could happen. "He's also very, very gay."

"Oh." Emily looks taken aback, before she flushes slightly. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Alison asks curiously as the brunette gathers up the photos and shoves them back into her bag. "You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't accuse me of anything. You just asked me a question."

"But I… I didn't accuse but I still thought… A part of me still thought that they might be legit." Alison struggles not to wince, but when she sees the look of shame across the brunette's face she's quick to reassure her.

"It's okay."

"It's  _not_. I shouldn't have doubted you. After everything you've told me over the last couple of weeks I shouldn't… the thought should have never crossed my mind."

"But it did," Alison shrugs. "Things aren't going to change overnight, Em. I've given you reasons to doubt me in the past – a hundred of them – and that's not going to just… go away because you want it to. But that's okay. Because instead of keeping these from me and pretending that they didn't exist, or getting angry about them before I had the chance to explain because that would be  _easier_ you came and you asked me. And that's how we start to make this thing work."

"I don't understand why A would do any of this, though," Emily speaks after a few moments of silence, and Alison has almost forgotten that they're in a room full of people, as captivated by the woman sitting in-front of her as she is. "Why go to so much trouble to try and keep us apart?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Alison replies with some bitterness. "All they want is to make me miserable. And I'd be a thousand times worse than that if I didn't have you in my life. So they're probably going to do everything they can to turn you away from me."

And she's still scared of that – the threat of A is always looming over her, has always been a reason for her to keep her distance from her loved ones, not wanting to drag them into the mess she's managed to make for herself, but Emily makes her want to change that because she can't be apart from her again, and she knows that whatever A throws at them they can face  _together_ and it almost makes her feel  _safe_.

"That's not going to happen, Ali." Emily's hand is still wrapped around her arm, and her grip tightens as she speaks, so hard that her knuckles flash white, as if she's afraid that Alison will slip away if she doesn't hold onto her – and the blonde understands the feeling all too well. "It's not."

A part of her wonders who Emily's trying to convince more – herself or Alison – and she's robbed of the opportunity to ask by the sound of a tray dropping onto the table to Emily's left. They both turn in surprise, the brunette's hand moving away from her arm, to see Hanna clambering into the seat beside Emily.

"What?" The blonde asks in response to both of their stares, and when Alison glances up she sees Aria and Spencer hovering in her periphery, too. "Do you two want to be alone or something?"

"No…" Emily trails off, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she frowns, looking at her friend curiously.

"Then why do you look like that?" Hanna pauses with a bottle of water halfway to her lips as she glances at the two brunettes standing behind Alison. "And are you two gonna sit down? Stop hovering, it's weird."

Alison waits with baited breath for a response to come – and when she sees Spencer lay her tray down next to her before sliding into the seat, Aria doing the same on her other side, she swears that her heart stops beating in her chest in shock.

Because she hasn't spoken to any of the girls (save Hanna in the library), for weeks, can scarcely remember the last time the five of them were together, and she knows that whenever they  _have_ been it's always been strained, too many things left unsaid, too many questions left unanswered, and it had all been her fault and she hadn't known how to  _fix_ it.

But now, as Emily's eyes catch hers from across the table as she offers the blonde a soft smile, Alison finally starts to believe that she  _can_.

x-x-x

"You look much happier than usual." That's how Matt greets her when she slides into his car later that day, an easy grin on his face.

"Oh, thanks a lot," she says with a scoff, but she finds it hard to keep a smile at bay – she's spent more time with Emily today than she has in what feels like forever,  _and_ she'd gotten to spend some time with the others, too, and she's been riding that high since lunch.

And it hadn't been without its awkward moments. Things were still a little strained between her and Hanna, and she didn't really know to act around Emily, when they're still in this weird limbo place that they've somehow ended up in, and she doesn't really know  _how_ to talk to Spencer and Aria like she used to but it's… it's a  _start_.

It's a chance to have something that a part of her had worried she'd never have again. And she would've been content to just sit there and listen to the four of them talk, to marvel at how far they've all come in the last two years, to be _proud_ of what they'd turned in to without her there to twist them into what  _she'd_ wanted.

But the four of them hadn't left her out, making an effort to include them in conversation that she'd hesitantly joined with Emily's warm eyes encouraging her. And she feels  _content_ for the first time in a long time, can barely even remember the last time she'd felt so at ease and it's  _nice_ , and she's  _happy_.

"It's not a bad thing!" Matt insists as he sets off down the street, tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel in time with the song blaring out of the speakers.

"You basically implied that I've been miserable for the whole week, how is that not a bad thing?"

"I said you were happ _ier_." Alison rolls her eyes, and she hears him chuckle. "You gonna tell me why or do I have to guess?"

"There's no reason."

"There must be. Come on, Ali, I thought we were friends." He pouts, but she pointedly ignores him. "Fine," he says with a huff. "I'll just  _have_ to jump to conclusions then. You're so happy because you and your girl finally got your shit together and spent  _aaaaaall_ night getting your naked on."

"You know," Alison drawls in reply, turning to face Matt and raising an eyebrow. "Considering you're not interested in women you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about my sex life."

"Well, I have to live vicariously through you," he fires back with a dramatic sigh. "The horrors of having a boyfriend who's away at college. You'll know how I feel in a year." Alison makes a face, all too aware that Emily and the others will be graduating at the end of this year, but she'll have to stay behind – it's something she tries not to think about, too much, because the thought of being away from the brunette for an extended period of time is… unimaginable.

But she  _wants_ to go to college, her education had always been important to her (sometimes, in the past, she'd seen it as her only way of escape from the town that had fast become her prison), so she's stuck at Rosewood High until she can pick up enough credits to graduate.

And Emily… Emily will get accepted to wherever she applies, and Alison doesn't know where that might be but she wouldn't blame the brunette if she wanted to get as far away from Rosewood as she possibly could, considering everything she's been through here. But the thought fills her with dread, a part of her wondering if she'll be able to deal with the distance – and another part of her quickly pushes the thought away, because she can't call Emily her girlfriend yet and that's not something she should be worrying about until she  _can_.

"Okay now you don't look happy at all and that's all my fault, fuck, I'm sorry." They pull into the parking lot at the stables and Matt rests a hand on her shoulder, his face lined with concern as he faces her. "I'm guessing that's not something you've thought about a lot."

"I have a little," she shrugs, worrying at her bottom lip and wondering when it had become so easy for her to talk about her feelings with other people – Emily really  _is_ changing her for the better. "Just not… I don't like to. And we're not even together, anyway, so…"

"But you will be," Matt says with unwavering confidence. "I mean, shit, I've never even met the girl – and don't think you can hide her from me forever, by the way – and I know that you guys are meant to be."

"You don't know that."

"Ah, ah, are we forgetting our conversation from yesterday? I'm always right, remember? You'll get through it. It's obvious how much you care about her, and she'd be an idiot not to feel the same way about you. I know I haven't known you for very long at all, but… you come off like you don't think that you  _deserve_ to be with her. And I know you say that there's a lot of history and you have a lot of shit to work through and I know I don't know what any of that stuff is, but… you're not going to get anywhere if you think you don't deserve to be happy, or if you think that she deserves better than you, or whatever. Because from what I've seen? You deserve to be happy, Ali. Just like everyone else."

She finds herself blinking back tears as she listens to his words, overwhelmed by the confidence behind them, and she doesn't think that anyone's ever said something so selflessly  _nice_ about her before, and she's taken aback and overwhelmingly grateful all at the same time.

"Hey now, don't cry," Matt says when he notices her eyes shining, holding his hands out towards her. "I can't deal with crying people. Hold it in." She laughs before leaning across the console to throw her arms around his neck in a quick hug, and she's still so unused to this, to having someone be there for her without an ulterior motive, without the weight of the past bearing down on every conversation, and it's  _freeing_.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly into his ear before leaning back and grabbing her bag off the floor of the car before sliding out.

"You don't need to thank me for telling the truth," he says with a shrug, falling into step beside her as the wandering towards the office. They're separated as Stephen sends Matt off to teach a lesson while Alison gets the job of taking a couple of the horses out for a spin (by far her favourite part of the job – her only regret is that she can't spend as much time out on the fields as she normally would, having too many other things to do once she gets back).

She mulls over Matt's words as she takes Cola out on their favourite route through the woods, wondering if she  _has_ been holding herself back because she thinks Emily deserves better. And there is a part of her that  _does_ think that, that worries she'll only hurt the brunette more, in the long run (and she's already hurt her so much –  _too_ much), and sometimes she can't shake the thought that Emily might be better off without her.

But she knows she's in too deep to be able to walk away – she loves Emily Fields with a depth that, impossibly, grows day by day – needs to let go of all her doubts and fears if they ever have a chance of being happy.

And she doesn't think that she  _can_ be happy, without Emily in her life, not anymore. She'd been a shell of her former self, whilst she'd been on the run, but now that she's back in Rosewood she feels like herself again, she feels better than she has done for a long, long time. And she knows that a part of that is because she can be honest with herself, with what she  _wants_ , in a way that she'd never allowed herself to be before.

She decides, as she turns Cola to head back home, as she carries on with the rest of her jobs and lets her thoughts wander, that she's done waiting. She's done trying to convince herself that she doesn't deserve a chance; that she doesn't deserve to be happy, that she doesn't deserve to be in love.

There's a part of her that knows it won't be that simple (that nothing in her life is  _ever_ simple, anymore), but she also knows that she has to  _try_. Because Emily is her everything, her heart and her soul, and she's wasted so much time already –  _they've_ wasted so much time already – and she can't bear to let another second slip by without telling Emily how she feels.

(She knows the brunette  _knows_ , even though she's never said the words, knows that it's  _obvious_ , but there's a difference, between knowing and hearing Alison  _say_ it).

So later, she asks Matt to take a detour when he's taking her home, and he doesn't question her, just nods with a knowing smile on his face and follows her directions without a word. And when he pulls up to the curb in-front of Emily's house she's paralyzed for a moment, with fear, because she's always been a planner and this might be the most spontaneous thing she's ever done and she's sure she looks awful, her hair tangled from the wind and her make-up probably smudged across her face and she probably smells like sweat and horses and  _god_ that's just not even remotely attractive and what had she been  _thinking_?

But then Matt puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes gently before shoving her slightly towards the door, whispering 'go get her' in her ear and that somehow gives her the strength to yank the door open and force herself to walk towards the brunette's front door.

She takes a deep breath before raising her hand to knock, and when the door's yanked open and she sees Emily on the other side her breath catches in her throat because even though it's only been a handful of hours since they'd last seen each other it feels like an age.

"Alison?" There's surprise written all over the brunette's face, a crease of confusion between her eyebrows. "What are you doing here?"

"I… I couldn't wait anymore," she says in a rush, the words almost tripping over one another as she speaks. "I had to…" She trails off, takes a deep breath and tries not to get lost in Emily's eyes as she attempts to collect her thoughts. "I love you."

It's almost comical, the way Emily's eyes widen in shock, and she has to hide a smile – she hadn't exactly meant to let it... slip out quite like that, but then again, none of this is going quite like she would've planned it, if she'd gotten the chance to.

"Ali, what - "

"No, let me finish," she cuts Emily off, terrified that if she pauses again she'll never get the words out. "I love you. I have for a long time but I never knew how to tell you, but I am now. We said we'd take a week but I can't wait anymore because it's been hell and I've hated every second because I  _need_ you. And if you don't feel the same way then I need you to tell me - "

She's cut off by Emily's lips crashing against hers, the brunette's hands sliding around her waist to drag her closer, and she moans into Emily's mouth as the brunette parts her lips with her tongue, tangling her hands in dark hair to hold her close.

"I love you, too," Emily breathes against her mouth when they part, some time later, both their breathing ragged, and her eyes are bright and shining when they open, looking down at Alison like she can barely believe she's real. "Of course I feel the same way. You know I've always loved you."

"Then I only have one more thing to say," she murmurs back, letting her eyes flutter closed as she curls a hand around the back of the brunette's neck to bring her lips close again.

"Yeah? What's that?" She can't resist stealing another kiss before she replies, groaning when Emily takes her bottom lip between hers and grazes it with her teeth lightly.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"


	14. Chapter Fourteen

“I officially have nothing to wear.” Alison stands with her hands on her hips, staring down with despair at pretty much the entire contents of her closet, strewn haphazardly across her bed. “Nothing.”

“Uh…” Matt’s voice comes from the corner, where he’s leaning back against her desk and looking at her with concern. “I’m pretty sure you have about a thousand things to wear.”

“But none of them are _suitable_!” She snaps back, and his eyes widen in alarm and she immediately curses herself because he’s just trying to _help_ and she doesn’t need to be a bitch to the one person in town who’s thus far yet to see that side of her. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he says with a bemused smile, shaking his head. “First date jitters, I get it. Although is there really any reason for you to be nervous? I mean, you already know the girl. You’ve already told her you love her. I’m pretty sure the date should be the easiest part.”

“But it’s not!” She cries in exasperation, throwing herself down on the edge of her bed and suddenly finding herself blinking back tears. “It has to be _perfect_.”

“Ali,” Matt murmurs gently as he moves to sit beside her, an arm sliding around her back, the warmth of it comforting. “You need to stop putting so much pressure on this, because if you force it, you’re not going to have a good time. And I think, after everything, you _deserve_ a good time, okay? So just… relax.”

“Have you met me? Impossible.”

“Just _try_. I just don’t get why you’re so worked up. It’s not like you’ve never been alone with her before.”

“But it’s _different_ ,” she insists, though she knows from the look on his face that he’ll never understand what she means – and how could he? He knows barely any of the history between her and Emily, nothing of the weight that she feels rests on her shoulders because of their past.

And she knows that it’s stupid, because it’s just _Emily_ , the girl who knows her better than anyone else – the one person that she feels safe with. But she’s still so scared – terrified – of messing this up before it’s even begun. She’s so scared that Emily will change her mind, will remember the horrible way that Alison had treated her in the past, and run for the hills.

It’s irrational, she knows, because Emily’s had a million chances to run (and a million _reasons_ to), but she hasn’t gone anywhere. And she knows she needs to stop thinking that the brunette will leave her at the first sign of trouble because it’s not healthy, for either of them, but she’s just… ever since Emily had asked her on their official first date two days ago she’s been living in a constant state of panic.

It doesn’t help that she has no idea where they’re going – Emily had insisted that she be the one to plan the whole thing, had given Alison zero hints about what they might be doing ever since she’d asked, and it’s been driving her _insane_.

Even the other girls had sworn that they had no idea (and it had killed Alison, a little, when she’d caved and asked them at lunch earlier that day when Emily had slipped away to the bathroom). Things are a little better between them, now – not great, because she knows it will take a lot of work to get back to good terms, but _better_. She no longer spends her lunch hour hiding in the library, instead enjoys the time with her girlfriend (and she’s still not used to that, to Emily officially being _hers_ ) and their friends, and she’s… she’s indescribably happy, for maybe the first time in her life, and everything would be _perfect_ if Emily would just tell her where the hell she was being taken that night.

She’d called Matt freaking out nearly an hour ago and he’d been at her door less than five minutes later (and she loves him for it), hadn't uttered a word of complaint when Alison had dragged him upstairs to help her find something to wear.

“Did she not even give you a hint of where you’re going?” Matt’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts, and she rises to her feet to eye her wardrobe critically once more.

“She said ‘to make sure to dress warm’. What the hell does that even mean? And how am I supposed to look cute when I’ve got, like, three layers on?!”

“Ali, you’d look cute whatever you were wearing – and I’m sure Emily would think you looked smoking if you were wearing nothing but a plastic bag, okay? But why don’t we start with…” He trails off, coming to stand beside her and frowning down at the clothes thrown across her bed. “These.” He grabs a pair of black skinny jeans and Alison nods in approval before reaching out to grab a white top to pair with them – it has the type of plunging neckline that she knows will make Emily lose her mind (and really, that’s the only thing she wants from tonight – she’s barely seen the brunette over the last couple of days, apart from at school, and there’s nothing more than she wants than the feeling of Emily’s mouth against hers and the brunette’s hands on her skin).

“Yeah?” She asks Matt as she holds the top against her frame, and he grins as he nods.

“I don’t know about cute – but you’ll definitely pass for hot, that’s for sure.” He kisses her cheek with a murmured ‘please stop worrying and just enjoy tonight’ into her ear before he leaves her to it, disappearing through her bedroom door. A moment after he’s gone, Pepe, who had seen the start of her breakdown and had quickly left the room, pokes his head through the doorway and, deciding it’s safe, pads into the room with a wagging tail.

“Hey sweetheart.” She bends to run a hand across his head – something about him never fails to calm her down – and he licks her cheek before darting away to curl up on the blanket she’s set aside for him beside her bed, resting his head on his paws and closing his eyes (she’s jealous – she wishes she could sleep as easily as him, sometimes).

She spends the next hour or so getting ready, making sure her make-up’s picture perfect before slipping out of her the dress she’d worn for school and into the clothes she’d picked up (fighting the urge to yank them back off and finding something completely different as soon as she catches sight of herself in the mirror – only Matt’s voice, telling her to enjoy herself, makes her pause, and she tells herself that Emily will love her whatever she’s wearing). She’s just slipped into a pair of boots when her phone chimes with a text, and her eyes light up when she sees Emily’s name on the screen, a split second before the doorbell below rings – she’s so excited by the thought of seeing the brunette that she barely has a second to panic about whether she looks okay as she slips into a coat and bounds down the stairs, Pepe on her heels.

Emily stands in the hall with her hands buried in the pockets of her jacket, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, making awkward small talk with Alison’s dad – she finds it ironic, that the first time he’s been home early on a Friday night was the one time she actually has plans. He’d had the audacity to ask her if she could move things to another night so they could spend together – she’d snapped that maybe if he made more of an effort to actually _be_ there for more than an hour a day that she wouldn’t _have_ to re-arrange anything, and things had been strained between them since.

Strained enough that she hadn’t yet found the opportunity to tell him about Emily. And it’s not that she doesn’t _want_ to, because there is no part of her that wants to hide her relationship, that wants to hide _Emily_ from the world – she wants everyone to know how much she loves her, because she’s kept it hidden for so long. She just… doesn’t quite know how to find the words, how to tell the man that she feels like she barely knows but who is her flesh and blood that she’s dating another woman. And it’s not that she thinks he’d have a problem with it – she doesn’t _know_ how he’ll react but she knows that, whatever happens, it won’t change things between her and Emily.

She’d warned Emily about that, promising that she’d tell him whenever the opportunity had arose – but the brunette had just pressed a chaste kiss against her lips and murmured that she didn’t have to rush anything, that she could tell her dad whenever she was ready, and Alison was pretty sure that she’d fallen even more in love with her.

Emily’s eyes rise to meet hers as Alison makes her way down the stairs, and she watches the way the brunette’s gaze runs over her frame appreciatively before she’s distracted by Pepe nudging at her leg, desperate for attention from his favourite human (Alison had come to begrudgingly accept that she came second whenever Emily was around – and really, she couldn’t blame him), and Emily bends to rub a hand affectionately across his back.

“Hey,” Alison greets as she comes to stand beside the brunette, and she wants nothing more, as she eyes the way that Emily’s jeans hug her figure, than to shove her back against the wall behind her and kiss her senseless – and maybe it’s a good thing that her dad is hovering in the background, because if not they might end up never leaving the house.

“Hey,” Emily returns, and the smile that lights up her face is the most beautiful thing that Alison’s ever seen. “Are you ready to go?”

“Mhm.” She slides a hand through the crook of Emily’s arm and squeezes gently, and she turns to glance back at her dad over her shoulder. “I’ll be back before eleven.”

“Okay,” he nods to himself, and Emily opens the front door after giving Pepe one last pat. “You girls have fun.”

“Oh, we plan to,” Alison mutters under her breath as she, too, rubs Pepe’s head before slipping out the front door, and Emily lets out a breathless laugh when she hears the blonde’s words.

“Oh we do, do we?”

“Mhm.” She slides into the passenger seat of the brunette’s car, and as soon as Emily is beside her she leans across and presses their lips together, sighing in contentment at the feeling – she _really_ hasn’t gotten to do this enough over the last few days. “I missed you,” she murmurs against Emily’s mouth when they part, and the brunette laughs softly before pressing one last kiss to her lips and leaning away to start the car.

“You just saw me, like...” Emily pauses to glance at the clock on her dashboard. “Three hours ago.”

“Not like this,” Alison points out, sliding a hand across the console to rest on the brunette’s upper thigh – Emily shoots her a warning glance before setting off, and the blonde just looks back at her innocently. “What?”

“You better move that hand because my plans for the evening don’t include crashing the car because you were distracting me.”

“You find this distracting?” She trails her fingertips teasingly higher, until they rest almost at the crease of the brunette’s jeans, and she hears Emily’s sharp intake of breath and smirks.

“Jesus, Alison, are you trying to kill me?” Emily’s hands clutch the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles flash white, and Alison slides her hand away and back into her own lap.

“Consider that payback for not telling me _anything_ about what we’re doing tonight.”

“If that’s payback then maybe I should withhold information more often,” the brunette mutters under her breath, but Alison still hears and smiles to herself. “And I wanted to surprise you.”

“I don’t like surprises,” she replies immediately, because it’s true and she knows that Emily _knows_ that.

“You’ll like this one,” the brunette promises, and Alison’s sure that she will because it means getting to spend time with her girlfriend alone but that’s not the _point_.

“Are you seriously not going to tell me where we’re going?” She can’t resist asking after a few moments of comfortable silence, broken only by the quiet sound of Emily humming along to the song playing on the radio (a habit that Alison has always secretly found adorable).

“You’ll find out soon enough,” comes Emily’s cryptic reply, and she pointedly ignores Alison’s pout, her lips twitching into a smile as she keeps her eyes fixed solidly on the road in-front of her. When they turn on the freeway Alison’s interest is piqued – she’d assumed that they’d be going somewhere nearby, but then she thinks of how long Emily’s been waiting for this night (how long they’ve _both_ been waiting for this night), and wonders if the brunette’s got something a little more elaborate planned.

She gives up trying to wheedle information out of the brunette and instead keeps up a steady stream of conversation, revelling in how _easy_ it feels to be with her, and enjoying every second, her earlier anxiety drifting away with every mile they travel.

When Emily leaves the freeway Alison perks up, glancing around them with renewed interest, the sound of Emily’s light laughter ringing in her ears – they stop before she sees a sign, the brunette pulling into a busy parking lot at what looks like a park, and when Emily unclips her seatbelt she grins at Alison’s confusion.

“You’ll see if you come with me,” is the mysterious answer to the question that Alison hadn’t voiced, before she’s slipping out of the car and leaving the blonde to scramble after her. Emily’s waiting by the passenger door, a picnic basket held in one hand that has Alison raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a little dark for a picnic, isn’t it?”

“Kinda has to be, for this one.” Emily takes her hand and leads her to the side, and Alison’s confusion only grows with every step that they take, and it’s all she can do to bite her tongue and not demand to know where they’re going.

The path they take is lined with trees, and when it ends they fall away to reveal a field dotted with people sitting on blankets, all facing towards a large movie screen that’s been set up at the bottom, and a soft gasp falls from her lips at the sight because of all the scenarios that had flashed through her mind ever since she’d gotten into the brunette’s car, this hadn’t been one of them.

“If you hate it we can go home. I just… I know you love old movies and when I saw that they were putting on an outdoor cinema I thought it’d be a good idea, but - ” Alison cuts short the brunette’s rambling by turning to her and pressing a bruising kiss to her lips, sliding her tongue into Emily’s mouth and groaning at the feeling.

“It’s perfect,” she breathes when they part, and when Emily’s eyes flutter open she’s relieved to see that the worry has fled them to be replaced by warmth, instead. “ _You’re_ perfect. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Emily brushes another kiss against her mouth before pulling her to one side and setting the picnic blanket down, pulling out a blanket from within and spreading it across the grass before dropping down onto it and patting the space next to her. Alison sinks down beside the brunette and shuffles so that she’s pressed against her side.

“What were you gonna do if it was raining?” She asks as one of Emily’s hands wraps around her back to drag her even closer, her mouth pressing against her cheek – she feels the curve of the brunette’s smile against her skin.

“There’s a restaurant in Philly that I’ve been wanting to go to for a while, but I thought this would be more your style.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She knows Emily’s teasing and feigns her own outrage, leaning back to glare playfully back at the other woman, who only smiles wryly.

“That all you used to talk about whenever you started to date someone new was that the first date had to be absolutely perfect because it set up the entire relationship?” Alison opens her mouth to disagree (even though it’s true – she _had_ used to say that, a _lot_ ), but Emily speaks before she has the chance. “And you love old movies and you love picnics and parks are romantic and we had a hell of a lot of kisses in one, so. I chose this over the fancy restaurant, which is probably like every first date you’ve ever been on.”

“Pretty much,” she agrees, unable to stop her glare from softening at Emily’s words. “Guys aren’t exactly the most imaginative, after all. But this is… amazing.” She glances around them, takes it all in – the stars shining in the sky above them, the haunting beauty of the moon, the sound of the wildlife around them mixed with the low chatter of people – and smiles. “And you should’ve known that there was no pressure on this. Not from me. It would’ve been perfect either way.”

“So you’re telling me that you weren’t worrying about this night at all?”

“ _No_ ,” she answers immediately, her smile growing as she remembers the way she’d acted around Matt earlier. “I called Matt freaking out and now I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m a crazy person and won’t wanna see me ever again.”

“I’m sure he understands,” Emily replies with a laugh. “And hopefully Hanna does, too.”

“You called Hanna?” It’s not that she’s surprised that she was the one that Emily had turned to, because she knows that out of the girls, the blonde is the one that Emily has always been closest to; she’s just surprised that Hanna had actually been willing to help.

“Well, no. She’s still not a hundred percent okay with this - ”

“And she wouldn’t be Hanna if she was,” Alison cuts in, because she knows it’s true. She still has a long way to go before she can make up for her past mistakes, and she knows that a big part of that is just time. Time to show that she has changed, that she doesn’t have any ulterior motives – that the girl she is now, the side of herself that she’s showing, is who she really is because for the first time in her entire life, she’s not worried about being vulnerable anymore.

Not in-front of Emily, who makes her feel safe in just the way she looks at her, with eyes so full of warmth and _love_ , so much that it steals the breath from her lungs and leaves her dizzy. And not in-front of the other girls, either – because she’s been to hell and back, and she knows that if she can survive that, then she can deal with anything else… as long as Emily’s by her side.

“True,” Emily admits with a nod. “But she’s still Hanna, and she’s still my friend, and she knew how crazy I’d be going so she turned up on my doorstep without me even having to ask and didn’t leave until I did. She told me to tell you that my outfit is all thanks to her.”

“Well I can’t really _see_ much of it…” She trails off, raising an eyebrow in the hint of suggestion, and Emily’s smirk makes her mouth go dry.

“Well, if you play your cards right… you might get a glimpse later.” The comment has her head spinning, because it’s so unlike the Emily she’d used to know, who’d been so scared and so timid that she could barely even kiss the blonde without blushing, that her mind is over-run for a moment, and suddenly the movie feels very insignificant when she and Emily could be spending this time making out in the back of the brunette’s car. “And that may be the first time I’ve ever made you speechless.”

“If you keep coming out with comments like that it probably won’t be the last time.” Alison’s amazed that her voice doesn’t shake, and decides that now would be a good time to change the subject, otherwise all she’s going to be able to think about for the rest of the night is Emily Fields’ sinful mouth. “What’s in the basket?”

“You hungry?” Alison makes a noise of agreement and Emily shifts to drag the basket closer, slipping the lid open and pulling out several containers. “Okay, it’s been a while since we ate together anywhere other than school so I had to guess what to bring. But I figured a salad was a safe option, and I’m hoping that you’re still a fan of all the things you used to be.”

Alison is stunned to find that Emily’s remembered all of the things she’d used to love, back before her life had gone to hell, and she’s embarrassed to feel tears stinging behind her eyes at the thought, and it’s then that Emily turns to catch a glimpse of her expression and the smile drops from her face as she moves so that she’s kneeling beside the blonde, one hand cupping the side of her face and concern lining her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I mean, sometimes food makes me really emotional when I’m hungry, but…” The brunette tries to joke, and it’s enough for Alison to blink back her tears before any can fall, and she swears that she never used to be emotional and _stupid_.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs as Emily’s thumb brushes delicately across her cheek. “I just… I can’t believe you remembered so much.”

“I remember everything about you,” is Emily’s soft reply, her hand curling around the back of the blonde’s neck as she rests their foreheads together, her breath hot against Alison’s lips. “Everything. How could I not? After that summer I replayed every moment we ever had together, over and over again because I didn’t want to forget a second.”

“I re-read my diary every night before I went to sleep because I thought that if I did, when I closed my eyes I’d be able to be with you again.” It’s not something she’s ever admitted to her before, but for a long time it had been her ritual – until she’d realized that it hadn’t worked, that no matter how much she read about the brunette, Emily rarely haunted her dreams. Only the memories of all the mistakes she’s made featured in her nightmares – even now, sometimes she still wakes in the middle of the night, soaked with sweat and shivering from fear with tears dried on her face. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”

“I know you are. I know.” Emily’s mouth presses against hers and silences anything else she may have said, and she loses herself in the kiss, her hands reaching out to settle on Emily’s hips, sliding beneath her jacket and the shirt underneath to settle against the heat of her bare skin, and she itches to slide them higher, to feel more of Emily beneath her fingertips, and she’s never wanted someone this much before in her life and the need to be closer is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Emily’s hands tangle in her hair, holding her close, and Alison loses all sense of where they are when the brunette’s tongue tangles with hers, kissing her deeper, and all she wants is for Emily to press her back and make her forget her own name – and it’s only the sound of the movie rumbling to life in-front of them that snaps them both to their senses.

When Emily pulls away from her, her eyes are dark with want, her cheeks flushed and her breathing heavy, and she looks at Alison like she wants to drag her home to bed right then and there – and if she asks Alison’s not sure that she’d be able to bring herself to disagree, because god, she wants her so much that she can barely think of anything else.

“You are going to be the death of me,” the brunette murmurs as she settles back down beside the blonde, till trying to catch her breath, and Alison has to agree. She snuggles into Emily’s side as the movie starts to play (not one that she’s seen before), and picks at the feast that the brunette’s provided. When they’re both finished eating Emily packs everything away and pulls out another blanket, draping it over their legs and Alison wonders how she’s ever going to top this night, because every part of it’s been perfect – and she’s never felt quite as content as she does in that moment, with Emily’s arm wrapped tightly around her, a solid warmth at her side.

 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

“Do we _have_ to go home?” Alison asks as the end credits begin to play across the screen, and the people around them begin shuffling to gather up their things. Emily would be content to stay there forever – the whole night has been a giant high, from the moment she’d picked Alison up (minus the awkward conversation with the blonde’s dad, as she’d had to try her hardest not to think inappropriate thoughts about what she’d be hopefully be getting up to with his daughter later that night), until now, with the blonde curled up against her with her head resting on Emily’s shoulder.

“I think we’d get pretty cold out here,” she replies, her mouth moving against the blonde’s forehead. There’s a definite chill in the air, despite the warmth of the blanket around their legs and the heat of Alison beside her, and she’s found herself shivering more than once in the final few minutes of the movie.

“I could deal.”

“If you don’t want to go home yet, you could always come back to my place for a while. It’s only half nine… it’ll take half an hour to get back to Rosewood, that gives us an hour before you told your dad you’d be back.”

“It’d be better if I never went back there at all,” Alison sighs, and Emily tightens her hold around the blonde, because she knows that her situation at home isn’t a great one, and she’d barely been able to look her dad in the eye because she’s so _angry_ for all that he’s failed to do ever since Alison had come back to town. “You should know though,” Alison speaks again, and Emily senses a change in her demeanour as she twists her head to meet Emily’s gaze, her eyes sparkling. “I don’t put out on the first date.”

“And you think _I_ would?” She feigns shock as she glances down at the blonde, but she can feel a smile pulling at her lips. “I am _offended_.”

“ _You_ were the one saying you’d give me glimpse of what you were wearing under that jacket,” Alison points out, and Emily thinks that she wouldn’t mind seeing what the blonde’s wearing beneath that coat, but has to shake the thought away quickly, because if she lets her mind wander down that road, she’s not sure she’ll be able to concentrate for long enough to drive them both home safely.

“Doesn’t mean you get to see what’s underneath my shirt,” she points out smartly, unable to stop a laugh passing her lips as Alison’s eyes go wide. “Come on.” She rises smoothly to her feet and extends a hand to her girlfriend, pulling her up so that she’s standing, too.

“You can’t _say_ things like that,” Alison eventually replies, as Emily’s bending to fold up the blanket they’d been sat on – when she turns she sees that the blonde’s eyeing her ass appreciatively, and her lips curve into a smirk.

“Why not?” She asks innocently as she shoves the blanket into the basket and straightens up, and Alison shoots her a look of disbelief.

“Because! It’s… distracting.”

“Oh yeah?” She takes a step closer to Alison, wraps her hands around the blonde’s hips, and bites her bottom lip when she hears her breath catch. “ _How_ distracting?” She bends her head to press a kiss against the corner of the blonde’s jaw, just beneath her ear, sucking softly at the skin.

“V-v-very distracting,” Alison stutters, her voice breathless, and this isn’t something that Emily had ever anticipated – that she could have such an effect on this woman that she’d thought for so long felt nothing for her. “And you should – _god_ ,” Alison cuts off with a soft groan as Emily’s teeth graze against her skin.

“I should…?” She teases when the blonde doesn’t say anything else, pulling away to meet her gaze – she’s taken aback by how dark Alison’s eyes are, filled with molten heat.

“You should stop, because if you carry on like that it’s going to make me want to do things to you that aren’t really suitable for a public place.” Emily’s mind fills with a dozen images of the two of them in various compromising positions, and her mouth goes dry at the thought and god, Alison’s _definitely_ going to be the death of her.

“People might like the show,” she jokes, in an attempt to clear her head of the filthy thoughts currently spinning through it.

“I’m sure they would,” the blonde murmurs in reply as her hands, clutched around Emily’s shoulders, tighten their grip so that the brunette can feel her nails digging into her skin, even through her jacket. “Too bad you’re all _mine_.”

“Too bad indeed.” When Alison kisses her, it isn’t chaste – it’s open-mouthed and hot and _needy_ , and it has Emily’s head spinning and her knees going weak, and there’s a possessive edge to the way the blonde’s mouth works hard against hers, and it has heat coiling low in her stomach, want building between her thighs and she’d sworn to herself that she’d take things with Alison slow but god, she doesn’t know, as hands tangle in her hair and blunt nails drag across her scalp, how the hell she’s going to do that when all Alison has to do is kiss her to make her lose control. “What was that for?” She breathes when they part, her eyes wide.

“Couldn’t resist,” comes the quiet reply, and Alison brushes another, gentler kiss against her lips before sighing softly. “We should go.” She makes a noise of agreement and takes the blonde’s hand in one of her own, picking up the picnic basket with the other, and leads them back towards the car.

She can’t wipe the smile off of her face when they’re driving home, because she’s been waiting three years for the chance to have a date with Alison DiLaurentis and she’s finally gotten the opportunity, and the whole thing has been more perfect than she could have ever imagined.

She can barely even believe that she is where she is now – with Alison in her passenger seat, her hand a welcome heat on Emily’s thigh, as her _girlfriend_. When the blonde had appeared on her doorstep earlier that week and said all the things that Emily had waited so long to hear, she could’ve sworn that she was in a dream; even now, there’s still a part of her that can’t quite believe that this is real.

“What are you thinking about?” Alison asks after a few moments of comfortable silence, and when she glances towards the blonde she sees that Alison’s watching her, her eyes soft and filled with so much love that it warms Emily’s heart.

“You.” She drops one hand from the steering wheel to cover Alison’s on her thigh, running her thumb over the back of her hand. “How I’m half-convinced that this entire night has been a dream.”

“Me too,” Alison replies quietly, twisting her hand to face palm-up and tangling their fingers together. “Because I always used to dream about this but… I never thought we’d have it. I never thought I’d get another chance with you, or that I’d be able to tell you how much I loved you.”

“But you did.”

“I did,” Alison agrees, squeezing her hand gently. “I don’t know how, but I’m so glad that I did.”

“I’m glad that you did, too.” As Emily pulls into her drive she lifts the blonde’s hand to her lips and brushes a kiss against the back of her knuckles, before clambering out of the car and leading Alison to the front door. Inside, her Mom pops her head out from the kitchen, her mouth half-open, no doubt ready to interrogate her about how the evening had gone, but falters when she sees that her daughter isn’t alone. 

“Hey, Mom.” She throws her keys into the dish by the door and shrugs out of her jacket. “Is it okay if we sit and watch some TV for a while?”

“Of course,” comes the warm reply, but she doesn’t miss the meaningful look that’s shot her way as the elder woman makes her way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. “As long as it’s down here and not in your room, and it’s not for too long.”

“Ali’s curfew is eleven, so...”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart.” She squeezes Emily’s shoulder as she passes and throws Alison a warm smile. “Goodnight, Alison.”

“Night, Mrs Fields. Thank you.” Emily leads the blonde towards the couch as her Mom disappears up the stairs, absentmindedly switching the TV on before sinking onto the cushions. Alison pauses above her, peeling off her coat to reveal the shirt she’s wearing underneath, and Emily’s mind goes blank as she takes in the sight of her girlfriend, admiring the plunging neckline with hungry eyes. “My eyes are up here.” Alison’s index finger slides beneath Emily’s chin, tilting her head upwards until their eyes meet.

“But I was enjoying the view.” Alison bites her lip and holds her gaze, and Emily feels like she can barely breathe. “Come here.” She expects Alison to sink onto the couch beside her – when the blonde instead moves to straddle her hips, hands settling across her shoulders, Emily’s sure that her heart stops. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” Her voice comes out a little more strangled than she’d intended, and Alison’s smirk turns wicked.

“Are you really complaining?”

“God, no.” One of Alison’s hands slides upwards to tangle in Emily’s hair as she brings their lips together, and the brunette sighs in contentment at the kiss, sure that she’ll never get tired of the feeling of Alison’s mouth against hers.

When they part Emily takes the opportunity to trail her lips down the side of blonde’s neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her skin – when she finds a spot that has  Alison’s hand tightening its grip on her hair, she pauses, letting her teeth graze against her flesh. Alison chokes back a moan, tilting her head to the side to give Emily better access; all Emily can hear is the sound of Alison’s laboured breathing, loud in her ears and god, they shouldn’t have started this because she really doesn’t know how to _stop_.

Her mouth moves lower, her tongue sweeping along the jut of a collarbone, and Alison’s hips jerk in response as she shudders, and Emily feels like she’s on fire. Her hands slide down to cup the blonde’s ass, and Alison grinds against her and for just a second she swears she can feel the heat of the blonde’s sex against her stomach and she can’t help but groan at the feeling, the sound breathed against Alison’s sternum.

She follows the neckline of Alison’s shirt, dragging her lips lower until she’s brushing against the swell of a breast, and both of the blonde’s hands slide into her hair, then, her chest arching against her mouth in a silent plea and fuck, all she wants to do is push the damn shirt and bra beneath it aside, all she wants is to push the blonde back down on the couch and cover every inch of her skin with her mouth, until she’s begging for her touch… but her Mom’s upstairs and it’s too _soon_ and she’s waited too damn long to be able to do this that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if her first time with Alison was on a _couch_.

“Why did you stop?” Alison asks when she pulls away (and god, she doesn’t know how she finds the strength to, but she _does_ ), her eyes fluttering open to look down at her in confusion, and there’s a flush staining her cheeks and she’s the most beautiful thing that Emily’s ever seen.

“Because,” she starts, lifting her hands from Alison’s ass to rest on her hips again instead, letting her thumbs rub across the skin just beneath the edge of her shirt. “I’d rather we took this slow. We’ve waited so long to be together that I… I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to rush into anything. And I know you’ve never been with a girl before and I don’t want to rush _you_ into anything that you might not be ready for.”

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t ready for something,” Alison murmurs in reply, her eyes filled with warmth, and Emily hates the fact that she’s been hurt so badly in the past that she’s surprised whenever someone genuinely _cares_. “Just like I’d expect you to tell me. And I’m not… I don’t think I’m ready for sex yet, but… other stuff is okay.”

“Other stuff?” Emily perks up at that, her eyes watching Alison closely. “Like what?”

“Oh, I’ll show you… when the time is right.”

“It’s right now,” Emily half-heartedly protests as Alison shifts so that she’s curled up beside her instead of on her lap,  and the blonde laughs as she presses a soft kiss to Emily’s cheek.

“No it’s not, because I have to go in… twenty minutes and what I have planned will take _way_ longer than that.” Emily’s mouth goes dry, her imagination running wild, and Alison smirks when she sees the look on the brunette’s face.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Emily feels like changing the subject will be the safest way to get her mind out of the gutter, and Alison chuckles like she knows exactly what Emily’s thinking.

“Mhm, ‘til six. Why?”

“I was just wondering… And I wanted to ask… I’m going to the movies and for dinner with the girls tomorrow night, try to forget about the whole A drama for a while… if you wanna come.”

She’d been hesitant about asking Alison, because she knows that the blonde is going to think that the only reason she’s been invited is because Emily had asked – and she hadn’t. The three of them had decided when Emily hadn’t been there, that it’d be a good way to try and being to mend the relationship between the five of them, and the brunette had wholeheartedly agreed – she just doesn’t want Alison to say no.

And she can tell that that’s what the blonde _wants_ to say, from the way her whole body had stiffened as soon as Emily had spoken. She knows that Alison wants to make amends for her past actions, more than anything, but she knows that it’s not easy for her, and that spending an evening with the other girls when she’s used to just spending a lunch hour will be a big step for all of them.

“Am I actually invited? By someone other than you?”

“Yes. They all want you to come – they were serious about making an effort, Ali.”

“Then why are you only asking me now?”

“Because I thought you’d be more amenable to the idea after an awesome date and some making out.” The blonde shoves lightly at her shoulder, and Emily catches her hand and squeezes gently. “And I didn’t want to ruin tonight if you hated the idea.”

“Nothing would’ve ruined tonight,” comes the soft reply, but Alison won’t look her in the eye and is worrying at her bottom lip. “They… they really want me to go?” She turns to look at Emily, then, and the hope in her eyes breaks her heart – that this is a girl so damaged and so broken, thinking herself so beyond forgiveness that she’s _amazed_ to be asked to do something as to go to the movie theatre.

“Yes. So please say you’ll go?”

x-x-x

“So, how was it?”

“Hello to you, too,” Emily says dryly as she drops into a seat at the Grille, opposite Hanna and beside Aria, and Hanna just looks at her and raises an expectant eyebrow. “I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking,” she mutters, and she hears Hanna huff out a sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever – now tell me how your date went.” Emily rolls her eyes and averts her gaze, opening the menu that’s in the table in-front of her, even though she comes here so often that she practically knows the entire thing from memory.

She’s saved from answering by the arrival of Spencer, who drops into the seat next to Hanna and murmurs a greeting as she shrugs out of her coat. A waitress appears with five waters for them, and Emily can hear Hanna tapping her foot impatiently as she waits for Emily to stop pointedly ignoring her.

“Emily Fields!” She cries eventually, and when Emily finally meets her gaze, she sees that the blonde’s pouting. “Come on, don’t be boring.”

“What’s going on?” Spencer asks, frowning in confusion as she looks between them.

“I just wanna know how her date with Alison went!” Hanna throws up her hands, and Emily rolls her eyes.

“I’m not being boring, I’m being private,” she replies eventually, sweetly, and Spencer coughs to hide a laugh as Hanna huffs in annoyance.

“Booooring. Did it at least go well? Cause I don’t want it to be super awkward when she gets here – she _is_ still coming, right?” Emily makes a noise of ascent, and Hanna nods in approval. “Wait – it didn’t go so well that you two are gonna be making out the whole time, did it? Because I do not need to see _or_ hear that.”

Emily had just lifted her glass to her lips to take a sip of water as Hanna speaks, and she nearly chokes at the blonde’s words, coughing as the water goes down the wrong way and Aria pats her back sympathetically. “What? No! God, no,” she manages to sputter once she can safely speak, her cheeks flushed with colour.

“Just checking! Cause you have like what, four years of pent up sexual frustration? The _last_ time you slept in the same bed you ended up making out like all night so I - ”

“I think you should stop talking, Han,” Aria cuts the blonde off, and Emily throws her friend a grateful glance. “You’ve tortured her enough.”

“Fine, fine. But if I hear anything later that sounds even _remotely_ like - ”

“Hanna!” It’s Spencer that saves Emily, this time, and Hanna mutters something that the brunette doesn’t quite catch (though she’s pretty sure she doesn’t _want_ to know), but thankfully then keeps her mouth shut – about her and Alison, at least.

She feels inexplicably nervous about tonight, even though she knows she has no reason to. But it’s just… the first time that the five of them will really be together for an extended period of time, and she knows that there’s not really much opportunity for talking during a movie, but… _still_.

Alison arrives a few moments later, her face, as she shoulders open the door to the restaurant, taut with worry and Emily’s heart aches for her – but her expression changes when her eyes meet Emily’s, a soft smile spreading across her face that steals Emily’s breath away.

“Hey,” Alison murmurs when she reaches them, smiling tentatively at the other girls as she slips into the seat on her right. Emily’s hand slides under the table to rest on her thigh, squeezing gently as the blonde presses a kiss to her cheek before glancing around at the other girls.

“Hey, Ali,” Hanna says cautiously, after Spencer and Aria have murmured a greeting. “Seeing as Emily won’t give me any details about last night, will _you_?”

“Oh, my god, Han, can you not - ” Emily is the first to reply, her gaze narrowing into a frown, and Hanna just looks at her innocently.

“It was perfect,” Alison cuts Emily off, catching her eye and smiling softly before turning her attention back to Hanna. “And that’s all you need to know.” They lock gazes, and Emily holds her breath, wondering if Hanna’s going to push it and what Alison will do if she does.

“Fair enough,” Hanna eventually replies, and Emily breathes a sigh of relief. “Everyone know what they wanna order?” They all nod in agreement and Hanna beckons their waitress back over. When she’s gone Spencer turns to face Alison, her chin resting on her upturned palm as her elbow rests on the table.

“How was work, Ali?” She asks softly, and Emily feels Alison startle slightly at the sound of her name, not expecting it.

“It was okay,” she replies haltingly, and Emily squeezes her thigh in encouragement, turning her head to watch Ali as she replies, smiling softly at the way she lights up as she talks about her job. “Some kid took a tumble and wouldn’t stop crying and her Mom yelled at Stephen for about ten minutes because it’s apparently our fault that she’s a shitty rider, so that was fun.”

“Sounds it,” Spencer replies, amusement lacing her voice. “I’ll have to come visit sometime, I haven’t been riding for years.”

“I don’t know why you’d want to,” Emily and Hanna say at exactly the same time, and they share a wry smile as both Alison and Spencer shake their heads.

“It’s fun,” Alison insists, and her eyes are sparkling as the meet Emily’s, and she wants nothing more than to kiss her but she knows she probably shouldn’t considering they’re in the middle of Rosewood surrounded by of their several classmates and word travels around here _fast_ and the last thing she wants is for Ali’s dad to hear about their relationship from someone who isn’t his daughter.

“Uhh, no, it’s not,” Hanna replies with a grimace. “I still have nightmares about the last and only time I went.”

“You went riding?” Alison asks, surprise colouring her voice. “I thought you hated horses.”

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t think that people should go anywhere near them.” She shudders and Emily nods in agreement. “I only went to try to be nice to my stepsister. And what do I get in return? I fall into a ditch, nearly break my ankle, and get bitten by the damn thing before it runs away.”

Hanna shakes her head at the memory and Alison presses her lips together to smother a laugh. “Okay, well there goes my suggestion of a group ride one weekend.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen. And good luck trying to get Em anywhere near a horse, ever.”

“I’m working on it.” Alison turns her head to meet the brunette’s gaze, her smile soft. “Actually…” She trails off, eyeing Emily thoughtfully and the brunette’s eyes widen in fear. “Can I be cheeky and ask you to pick me up from work on Monday? Matt’s staying late but I don’t really want to. I can ask my dad if not, though. And you don’t even have to get out of the car.”

“Um, okay,” she replies, uncertainly, because even just the thought of being around them fills her with dread. “As long you don’t try to make me get on one.”

“As if I’d do that to you,” Alison scoffs, and Emily smiles softly when their eyes meet.

“I’ll try it, though,” Aria cuts in. “I’ve always wanted to go, I just never found the time.”

“Well, _you_ three can go,” Hanna says, before gesturing between herself and Emily. “And _we’ll_ go shopping instead.”

“Your choice, Em. Horses or shopping with Hanna,” Alison says with a grin as she catches sight of her grimace at Hanna’s words.

“Hey!” Hanna protests, pouting again. “I’m not _that_ bad.”

“Yes, you _are_ ,” Emily groans. “The last time I went with you, you dragged me around for _two_ hours looking for a dress and then you went back to the shop we started in and bought the first one you’d tried on!”

“Okay, that was _one_ time - ”

“And the time before that you - ”

“Okay, okay, I’m a terrible person to shop with, I get it,” Hanna cuts her off with a roll of her eyes, and the other three glance between the two of them, amused.

“You can’t just buy the first thing you see,” Alison weighs in, and Emily turns to face her in disbelief.

“Traitor.”

“You can’t!” Alison’s hand finds hers under the table, and she twines their fingers together, rubbing her thumb across the back of Emily’s hand. “Because what if you find something better in the next store?”

“No, once you’ve bought what you wanted you _leave_ , so you never have to go to the next place and see what you’re missing out on,” Emily counters, and she smiles when Alison huffs in disagreement.

“You _so_ don’t understand shopping,” Hanna says, shaking her head in disappointment. “Next time I go, Ali, you can come with me – you appreciate it more than these other losers.”

“Hey,” Emily, Aria and Spencer protest in unison, but Alison is too busy looking at Hanna with wide eyes to reply.

“Really?” She asks, and Emily realizes that, despite the air around her that everything’s fine and normal, underneath it all she’s still nervous, still expecting the other girls to reject her, is surprised by the fact that they want her around at all.

“Sure.” Hanna lifts her head to meet Alison’s gaze, taken aback by the look on her old friends face, and she smiles tentatively. “We can go next weekend, if you want? I need some new jeans.”

“I… I’d like that.” She matches Hanna’s smile, and Emily has to hide her grin, because she knows that isn’t easy for either of them but she’s just so glad that they’re _trying_. Their food arrives, then, and conversation stalls, as it always does whenever they’re eating, and Emily feels the most content she has in a long, long while – she’s with the best friends she could’ve ever asked for, with her gorgeous girlfriend by her side, and she couldn’t be happier.

But there’s still a lingering feeling of dread in her chest, because it’s been a long time since any of them have had an A text and with every day that passes without one the feeling deepens, and she doesn’t even want to know what A will do when they find out about the new developments in her relationship with Alison – if they don’t know already.

Because she’s never truly been allowed to be happy. She’d had to lie to Maya about it all and then she’d been ripped away, and Paige… the threat of A, hovering in the background, had always been over them, oppressive and unavoidable, and though it hadn't been A that had been the end of them it had definitely put a strain on their relationship.

And now… she’s terrified of losing Alison, now that she knows what it’s like to _have_ her. She’d fallen in love with her over three years ago and now she’s finally hers to hold, hers to kiss, hers to love openly, and it’s… the most amazing feeling in the world but it’s also the most terrifying, because the thought of losing her, of something happening to them… it’s unthinkable.

But Alison had said it, just a few days ago – A enjoyed making her miserable (making _all_ of them miserable). They’ve meddled with all their relationships, at one point or another, and though she keeps telling Alison that nothing can tear them apart sometimes she can’t quite bring herself to believe what she’s saying.

But for now, at least, she can enjoy herself. She can hold hands with her girlfriend under the table and she can laugh with her friends and she can feel her heart skip a beat every time she catches Alison looking at her, with adoration written across her face, out of the corner of her eye. For now she can shove the bad thoughts away and try to convince herself that none of the rest of it matters, for as long as she has Alison at her side – that she should enjoy this, because as much as she might wish it, not everything lasts forever.

“What movie are we watching, anyway?” Alison asks as they’re waiting for the check, their food long finished. She’s a lot more relaxed now, Emily notes, talking freely and unable to stop smiling, joy radiating from her so that she practically glows.

“We never actually decided,” Emily answers her, but she catches Hanna looking sheepish out of the corner of her eye and narrows her gaze. “Did we?” She directs that at the blonde, who chews her lip and glances towards Alison thoughtfully.

“Well… It’s a surprise?”

“Hanna,” she murmurs, warningly, and the blonde sighs.

“Fine, okay, there’s this horror movie that us three,” she pauses to point at Aria and Spencer, “ _really_ want to see.”

“And you were just not gonna mention that?” She asks, disapprovingly, and she can feel that Alison’s stiffened at her side, doesn’t need to look at her to know that she’s no longer smiling because she _hates_ horror movies, always has, and Emily can’t imagine that that’s changed over the last couple of years (she remembers, vividly, the first (and only time) they’d watched something scary at a sleepover, had quickly realized why Alison always refused to put them on when she’d spent the entire thing with her head buried in a pillow – Emily had thought it was adorable).

“We didn’t want Ali to say no,” Hanna answers, refusing to meet Emily’s gaze, and the brunette knows that she feels guilty, because if Emily had known this was the plan she never would’ve asked Alison to come with them – because now she’ll see this as a challenge and say that it’s fine even though she’ll spend the whole time terrified.

“Is there nothing else on?”

“Not for like, another two hours…”

“It’s fine, Em,” Alison speaks before Emily can reply, and her smile is tight as she glances towards Hanna. “Really.”

“But - ”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Alison insists, and Emily wonders who she’s trying to convince more – Emily or herself. She’s about to press the issue further but Alison shoots her a warning glance, and then the check arrives and they’re distracted by trying to split it so they all pay for what they’d ordered.

When they rise to leave, shrugging on their coats and grabbing their bags, Emily catches Hanna’s arm and drags her back a couple of steps, and the blonde is quick with an apology when she sees the look in her friend’s eye.

“I’m sorry!”

“What were you even _thinking_?” She hisses as they follow the other three out of the Grille, staying a few yards behind them as they make the short walk to the movie theatre.

“Honestly? That I’d enjoy seeing her scared shitless, okay?” Emily’s mouth opens, but Hanna waves a hand to quiet her, her words rushing out quickly. “I know, I know, it’s stupid and childish and petty and maybe I’m still harbouring a lot of resentment towards her and thought I’d get a kick out of this but I… I feel pretty bad. She’s been… well, so un-Alison tonight that I feel awful, okay? I made a mistake, and I’m a shitty friend and I know I shouldn’t have done this but I’m sorry.”

“I think you should probably tell _her_ that,” Emily mutters, but her earlier anger has fled, because she knows that Hanna’s still struggling with this, with coming to terms with who Alison is now, trying to move past their horrible past – all while trying to maintain her own identity, and Emily can’t imagine what she must feel every time she looks at Alison. “Are you… are you sure you’re okay with us being together?”

“What?” Hanna looks surprised by the abrupt change of subject, actually comes to a stop as she turns to look Emily in the eye. “Em, of course I am. I told you – if you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m not trying to like, sabotage you guys or anything, god.”

“I didn’t say that! I just… I know this is hard for you.”

“But this is what you’ve always wanted,” Hanna says simply, with a shrug. “I’ve never seen you like this. Hell, I’ve never seen _Ali_ like this, she fucking glows when she’s around you. It’s sickening.” Emily rolls her eyes, links her arm through Hanna’s as she tugs them along to trail behind the others. “And it’s getting easier, to be around her. She’s… she’s just so different. I can’t even imagine what she’s been through.”

“Maybe you can ask her about it, one day.”

“At the weekend, maybe.”

“You really wanna go shopping with her?” They reach the movie theatre a few moments after the others – she sees Alison looking over her shoulder as she waits with Aria and Spencer in the line for tickets, watches the way her shoulders relax as their eyes meet, admires the smile that curves across her lips.

“Well, she’s gotta be better company than you. All you do is complain.”

“It’s not _all_ I do,” she argues as they fall into the line behind the others, and Hanna rolls her eyes as Alison turns and presses into her side.

“Please, yes it is. You’re even useless when I ask you if my ass looks great in whatever I’m wearing.”

“Forgive me for not checking out my friends.”

“Hey, I’m hot, it’s allowed.” Emily feels one of Alison’s arms slide around her back, grasping at her hip to press them even closer together, and Hanna smirks as she notices what Alison’s doing. “Oh relax, Ali, you don’t need to be jealous of little old me.”

Emily wants to tell Hanna that baiting Alison _probably_ isn’t the best idea when she’s been strong armed into watching something that she’d probably really rather not, and holds her breath as she waits for her girlfriend’s reply, praying that she won’t snap and return to her old self because that is _not_ what any of them need at this fragile stage of rebuilding their friendship.

“Oh, I’m not,” Alison replies sweetly as they’re called to the front of the line, reaching her other hand up to tug absentmindedly on the collar of Emily’s jacket. “I’m just reminding her that the only ass she’s allowed to check out is _mine_.”

 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

As she pulls into the parking lot at the stables where Alison works, Emily can’t help but feel trepidation building in her stomach. She’s never liked horses – they’re too _big_ and too dangerous and too unpredictable for her, and she’s never understood why _anyone_ would think it was a good idea to _sit_ on one.

But of course, Alison did, and the blonde is the only thing that would ever lure her to within three miles of a place like this after the _last_ time.

She sits in the car for a good few minutes, trying to build up the courage to bring herself to _move_ , before she tells herself that she’s being stupid and pushes the door open, clambering out and heading in the direction that Alison had told her to go when she’d asked if Emily could pick her up that night.

When she rounds the corner and is confronted with the sight of several horses peering out of their stables, their ears pricked up with interest as they all turn as one to look at her, she very nearly turns around and runs back to the car, because she can't see Alison anywhere.

She’s taken two steps backwards when she catches sight of movement out of the corner of her eye, and when she turns she sees a boy with sandy blond hair emerging from one of the stables with a brush in his hand and recognises him immediately from the photos that A had so kindly send her to try and warn her away from Alison.

“Matt?” She calls out before he turns and walks away, because she feels slightly safer with someone else in the vicinity, and at the sound of her voice he stops and turns, his brows creasing with confusion as he meets her gaze. “Hi. Do you know where Alison is?” Recognition flickers in his eyes before they brighten with excitement.

“You must be Emily.” She nods as he steps closer to her, eyeing her with scrutiny, and she shifts uneasily beneath his gaze. “She told me you were hot, but I didn’t know you were _this_ hot, wow.” She feels a blush colour her cheeks and he chuckles warmly in response, extending a hand towards her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too.” She’s heard Alison talk about her friend a lot over the past week or so, is glad that the blonde has him in her life because god knows she needs someone she can talk to.

“Ali must still be in the riding school – she can get a little carried away. Come on, I’ll take you to her.” He starts to walk away, but Emily remains rooted to the spot and he pauses, turning to look at her questioningly.

“So she’s riding right now?”

“Yeah...”

“She’s not like… doing anything scary, is she?” She’s seen Alison ride exactly once before, after the blonde had begged her to come see her, and the memory of Alison falling from the horse’s back and crashing to the floor still haunts her to this day.

“Oh, I get it. You don’t like horses?” Understanding dawns on his face as Emily nods. “Huh, Ali didn’t mention that.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Emily says with a wry shake of her head. “She’s been trying to get me around horses for a long as I can remember.”

“Probably cause she wanted to share something she loves with _who_ she loves,” Matt points out, and this time when he moves Emily follows him, albeit with some hesitation. “You always been scared of them?”

“Pretty much. But then I eventually gave in and went to watch Ali one time and… she fell and I haven’t been around them since.”

“She was probably trying to show off for you and tried to do too much – I know I’ve done that before. Nothing _quite_ kills the mood like falling face-first into a fence and breaking your nose.”

“Ouch.” Emily can’t help but laugh at the image that flashes through her mind, and Matt grins good-naturedly.

“Luckily he saw the funny side and I _somehow_ got a second date, and we’ve been together ever since.”

“He definitely sounds like a keeper.”

“Anyone that can put up with me for two years is a keeper, believe me.” They round a corner and in the distance Emily sees a flash of blonde hair blowing in the wind as Alison steers the horse she’s on towards a jump – Emily’s breath catches in her throat as her girlfriend speeds towards it, and she can only breathe again once the horse has safely cleared the fence and is back on all four legs. “She’s not gonna fall,” Matt murmurs quietly, squeezing her shoulder gently, and Emily nods even though her heart beats loudly in her ears, fear rippling down her spine. “There’s some seats over there if you want to sit. I can wait with you, if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure you have a ton of things to do.” She appreciates him offering though, throws him a grateful smile before he nods and walks away, leaving her to approach Alison, who hasn’t noticed her yet – as she settles down at the side of the arena, she watches as the blonde takes the horse over several fences in a row with her heart in her mouth the whole time.

When Alison slows to a walk, patting the horses shoulder, she rises and leans her arms over the plastic fencing of the riding school, and the blonde’s head lifts and a beautific smiles crosses her face as she notices Emily, and she turns and walks the horse over to her and Emily has to force herself not to recoil.

“I’m so sorry, I got carried away,” the blonde apologises as she comes to a stop several metres away (for which Emily is eternally grateful, as the horses huge eyes land on her, its ears flickering backwards and forwards), “I didn’t realize the time.”

“It’s okay, Ali, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not.” Alison shakes her head as she throws one leg over the horses back and dismounts smoothly, adjusting something on the saddle before leading the horse over to the gate that leads back out onto the yard. “You should’ve called me from the car, you didn’t have to get out.”

“You’d have answered the phone?!” Emily asks, horrified, and Alison laughs at the expression that crosses her face.

“It’s perfectly safe, Em. Cola wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that,” Emily insists, keeping a safe distance as Alison heads back up to where Emily had found Matt, one hand wrapped firmly around Cola’s reigns. “He could get scared and if you were distracted - ”

“You’re really cute when you’re worried.”

“Ali, this is serious. You could get hurt.”

“And I’m serious when I say that I know what I’m doing, and I’m not an idiot, and I know how to be safe, okay?” Emily worries at her bottom lip as her girlfriend meets and holds her gaze, and she knows she’s being stupid but she can’t _help_ it.

“Okay.” Alison’s earlier smile returns, and she pauses outside one of the numerous stables and clips a rope to Cola’s bridle as she takes off the saddle – when the blonde disappears to put it away, Emily feels brave and takes a step closer to the horse, extending her hand towards his nose warily. He pricks his ears forward and sniffs at her palm before licking her, and she breathes out a shaky laugh, using her other hand to stroke the side of his neck, her fingers shaking as they brush against the coarse black hair. “You have to look after her, okay?” She murmurs quietly as she rubs his nose. “Otherwise you’ll have me to deal with.” He snorts softly and she takes that as a sign of agreement and moves to take a step back – when she does she sees Alison standing in the door of the stable, an affectionate smile on her face as she watches the two of them.

“See, he’s not so scary, is he?”

“He’s alright,” she replies with a noncommittal shrug, but she _does_ have to admit, now that she’s up-close, that he’s pretty cute.

“I’ll have you on-board soon enough.”

“Not likely,” Emily scoffs, because she’s pretty sure she’d had to be _sedated_ to be calm enough for that, but Alison just grins as she leads Cola into the stable and slips the bridle over his ears. “But cause I came down here does this mean you’ll come swimming with me?”

“Hmm,” Alison drawls as she gives Cola one last pat and steps out of the stable, unclipping her riding hat and resting it under one arm. “I’ll think about it.” She steps closer and kisses Emily soundly, but briefly – when she steps away the brunette pouts, and Alison laughs. “I’m all sweaty and gross, you don’t _want_ me to kiss you for any longer than that.”

“I _always_ want to kiss you. Even when you smell like horse.” Alison shoves playfully at her shoulder and she grins, catching the blonde’s hand in her own and twining their fingers together. “You need to do anything else?”

“Just put this away and say bye to Matt.” Emily nods and lets the blonde lead her towards the office, shoving the hat behind the front desk, introducing her to her boss, Stephen, before dragging her away to where Matt’s pushing a wheelbarrow full of straw.

“You two lovebirds leaving?” He asks as they approach him, setting the wheelbarrow down and stretching his arms over his head.

“Mhm. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course. The day I’m not here is the day you need to call the police and report me missing, just saying. I can pick you up after school? Unless Emily wants to come down again.” She shakes her head vehemently, stopping abruptly when Alison turns to look at her, causing Matt to laugh. “Alright then, after school it is. It was nice meeting you, Emily.”

“You too.” Alison murmurs a goodbye before letting Emily lead her to the parking lot, and the brunette can’t help but sigh with relief once she’s safely within her car, and Alison shakes her head.

“It wasn’t _that_ bad, was it?”

“It was… better than I expected. But still terrifying.” Alison’s hand rests on her thigh as she heads back towards Rosewood, her thumb tracing absent patterns that have her breathing a little heavier than normal. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“Not really,” the blonde sighs, and when she glances across the console she sees Alison looking out the passenger window with a frown on her face. “Jason came home last night.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know where he was, he wouldn’t tell me.” Emily knows that the two of them have never had a great relationship, and she can’t imagine how strained it must be now, after two years apart. “I think his exact words were ‘you don’t tell me shit about your life so what right do you have to know about mine?’”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”

“He’s never…” She trails off, because while it’s something she’s always suspected she doesn’t know if she has the right to ask, but she catches the blonde’s eye and Alison gives her a look of encouragement. “He’s never hurt you, has he?”

“Not badly,” Alison murmurs in reply after a few seconds of silence, and Emily’s hands clench around the steering wheel, hard. “And I’d be lying if I said that most of the time I didn’t deserve it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know. But he hasn’t laid a hand on me since I came back – I’d have had to see him for that. You’d think that after being dead for two years your family would actually want to spend time with you, but apparently not when you’re a DiLaurentis.” There’s a note of bitterness in the blonde’s voice, and Emily knows that Alison’s relationship with her family puts a huge strain on her. “I need to go home, though,” she sighs, softly. “I need a shower.”

“You can shower at my place.”

“I don’t think your Mom would be too pleased about that,” Alison points out, and Emily shrugs.

“She’d get over it.”

“I don’t know if she would – and I don’t think pissing off my girlfriend’s Mom is going to do me any good. It’s fine, Em, take me home. I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll wait with you, if he’s there. You can shower and then come over.”

“You’ll be sick of the sight of me.”

“Impossible,” she murmurs, taking the hand that’s resting on her thigh and bringing it to her lips, brushing a gentle kiss across the back of Alison’s knuckles as she turns onto the DiLaurentis’ street. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“I have a load of studying to do. I don’t wanna bore you.”

“So do I.” Emily frowns as she pulls to a stop outside of Alison’s house, realization dawning on her. “If you don’t want to come over, you don’t - ”

“Of course I _want_ to come over, Em, don’t be silly.” Their hands are still joined, and Alison’s thumb dances against the back of her hand soothingly. “Don’t ever think that I don’t want to spend time with you. I just don’t want you to get bored of me.”

“Ali, it’s been three years and I’ve never once thought you were boring. That’s not gonna change anytime soon.”

“I don’t know… you’ve always seen me doing interesting things. You’ve never seen me studying for tests or making the bed or doing laundry.”

“That just sounds like domestic bliss to me.” Alison meets her gaze, her lips curving into a smile, and she feels an answering one spread across her face.

“You’re a dork.”

“I love you, too.” Alison grins before moving to slip out of the car, and Emily follows suit. She hopes that Jason’s out somewhere, but as they step through the front door he pokes his head out of the kitchen, mouth half-open to speak, but he stops when he sees Emily.

“Emily,” he says with a nod, and she forces a smile. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“And I didn’t know where you were for past month, I don’t have to tell you if I’m inviting people over,” Alison replies smartly, taking Emily’s hand and pulling her towards the stairs. “Where’s Pepe?”

“He’s outside,” Jason replies, nodding towards the kitchen window and outside of it Emily sees the dog sprawled across the grass, happily chewing a stick. “He’d rather sit out there than in here with me.”

“Gee, I wonder why when you have such a sunny personality.” Alison’s voice is heavy with sarcasm, and Jason glares, opening his mouth to reply but Alison just talks right over him. “We’ll be in my room, try not to need us.”

Her tone remind Emily so much of the old Alison when she was annoyed at her brother that she can’t help but smile as she allows Alison to tug her upstairs, and the blonde kisses her as soon as the bedroom door is shut before wiggling out of Emily’s grip.

“I’m serious, I need a shower.”

“No, you don’t,” Emily protests, reaching for her, but Alison just dances away, shaking her head.

“Sit,” she says, pointing towards the bed, and Emily obeys sitting cross-legged in the middle of it. “Stay, and keep your hands to yourself.”

“But that’s no fun.”

“Mm, I can make it fun.” Alison’s smirk has her mouth going dry, and she watches as the blonde curls her hands around the edge of her shirt and pulls it over her head, and god, she’s seen Alison like this before but every single time it happens it sends her head spinning because she’s _perfect_ and she still can’t get over the fact that she’s _hers_.

Emily’s eyes take in the sight of girlfriend, framed in the weak sunlight filtering through her bedroom window, greedily, tracing over every inch of her exposed skin and longing to run her hands, her _mouth_ , over it all, and when Alison’s hands move to the button of the pants she’s wearing Emily’s breath catches in her throat.

“Hands to yourself,” Alison warns again, sternly, and it’s only after Emily nods that she shoves the clothing to the floor, leaving her bare but for the skimpy black lace underwear that she’s wearing and god, this image is going to haunt her dreams and drive her _crazy_. She drinks in the sight of the blonde as she turns and saunters away to grab a towel, transfixed by the sight of her – and she pouts when Alison wraps that towel around herself.

“Tease.”

“I’ve got to do _something_ to keep you interested.”

“You mean to kill me?”

“That too,” Alison replies with a grin. “I’ll be back in like five minutes.”

“Take your time, I can keep myself entertained.” Alison disappears to the bathroom and Emily finds herself wandering over to the noticeboard propped up against one of the bedroom walls, glancing over the collection of photos pinned to it with a fond smile, amused to note that a lot of them are the same ones she has on her own.

She jumps when she hears scratching at the blonde’s bedroom door before she remembers Pepe and hurries over – as soon as the door’s opened just a crack he bounds inside, leaping onto the bed and waiting for her to climb up next to him before he rests his head on her lap, his tail thumping against the mattress.

She’s rubbing his ears when she’s hears a soft knock, and when she glances up she sees Jason peering into the room. “Ali’s in the shower.”

“I know,” he says in reply, taking a step into the room even though she hadn’t said he could come in. “I heard the water running. I uh, actually wanted to talk to you.” He runs a nervous hand through his hair and she raises an eyebrow, because she has no idea what Jason DiLaurentis wants to talk to her about. “You and Ali? Are you together?”

“Why do you care?” She doesn’t deny it, but she knows it’s not her place to confirm it. “You don’t seem to care about anything else in her life.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Where the hell have you been, Jason? Your little sister’s been gone for two years and she comes back and you disappear?”

“Don’t act like we ever had a good relationship, Emily. You don’t know the first thing about this family.”

“Maybe not, but I do know a thing or two about Alison. I know that she feels abandoned by her own family. I know that she feels like you and your dad don’t give a shit about her. And maybe you don’t but you could at least _act_ like you do. She’s been to hell and back and all she ever wanted was to come home and now that she’s back she doesn’t want to be here because she feels like a stranger in her own home. So maybe you should be more concerned with trying to rebuild a relationship with her – or hell, just trying to _have_ one – instead of wondering about her love life.”

She hadn’t meant to let herself get so carried away, but the whole situation makes her so _angry_ , and it’s easy to direct it at Jason when he’s stood in-front of her, a sheepish expression on his face as he shifts awkwardly under the weight of her gaze.

“I know it can’t have been easy for you, finding out that she was alive. But think about what it must have been like for her.”

“I don’t… I don’t know how to _have_ a relationship with her, Emily. I don’t know what to say to her. I look at her and I… she’s been through so much and I don’t even know the half of it. I never knew how to talk to her before but now I… I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“You start by actually _trying_.” She doesn’t know why this matters to her so much, but she can’t stand the thought of Alison feeling unsafe in her own home, knows that the blonde dreads coming back here, whether she’s alone or not – she wonders, if not for Emily, if Alison would have stayed in town at all.

Jason opens his mouth to reply, but then they hear the creak of the bathroom door opening and in the time it takes Emily to blink he’s disappeared – Alison wanders into her room a moment later, frowning as she glances over her shoulder.

“Was Jason just in here?” Emily’s distracted by the sight of Alison back in just a towel, her hair curling around her shoulders and water droplets running down the side of her neck and down across her breasts before dipping beneath the towel, and Alison takes a step closer and waves a hand playfully in-front of her eyes. “Hey. Earth to Emily.”

“If you still want me to keep my hands to myself you should probably stay out of arms reach,” she murmurs, longing to reach out and wrap her hands around Alison’s hips, to press her mouth to smooth skin and trace the path of the droplets that she’d been so transfixed by. “But yeah, he was.”

“What did he want?”

“Honestly? He asked me if we were together.” She forces her gaze from Alison’s chest to meet her gaze, watches as her brows crease into a frown. “I didn’t tell him anything, don’t worry.”

“I’m not _worried_. I don’t care if he knows, I’d just rather be the one to tell my Dad rather than him.”

“I don’t think he’d do that to you.”

“I don’t know…” She worries at her bottom lip, and Emily curls her hands around the blonde’s thighs and smooths her thumbs across her skin comfortingly. “I guess I should tell him sooner rather than later.”

“You shouldn’t feel pressured into it. It’s a big thing, Ali.”

“I don’t feel pressured, and it’s not like I’m worried about it… honestly my biggest reason for holding off is that I know for a fact as soon as I tell him we’ll have an open door policy here as well as at your place and our making out time is going to be seriously compromised.” Alison grins down at her and she laughs at the blonde’s words.

“We can work around it.”

“Oh? Have you done that before?” Alison raises an eyebrow and Emily isn’t entirely sure what the right answer to that question is.

“Um… maybe?”

“With who?” Alison’s hands curl around her shoulders, her eyes flashing with something that makes Emily’s mouth go dry. “Maya? Paige?”

“Um, do we really want to be talking about my ex-girlfriends right now?” Alison’s hands press her back until she’s lying flat on her back, and then the blonde moves to straddle her hips, the towel falling to the floor, and Emily nearly forgets how to breathe.

“No.” Alison pauses to lean down and drags her lips from the base of Emily’s neck up to her ear, and she shudders beneath the feeling, breath catching in the back of her throat as a groan. “As long as I know all you’re thinking about right now is me.”

“God, Ali,” Emily breathes as the blonde’s teeth graze across her earlobe, her eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. “You know you’re the only one that’s ever on my mind.”

“Good.” Alison kisses her, then, desperate and needy and with a possessive edge that has Emily’s eyes rolling back into her head, her hands settling on the skin of Alison’s thighs, and she’s distantly aware of Pepe slinking away – then she remembers that the door is practically open and Jason’s not far away and Alison’s dad could be home any minute and she’s _pretty_ sure that finding Alison on-top of another woman is not the ideal way for the blonde to come out to him.

“Babe - ” She pulls away from the kiss, but Alison’s mouth just moves to slide down the side of her neck, teeth grazing across her skin in a way that has Emily biting hard at her bottom lip to keep a moan at bay. “The d-door.”

“I don’t care,” Alison breathes against her, and Emily’s hands clench hard against Alison’s thigh when the blonde’s teeth tease the skin where Emily’s neck meets her shoulder.

“W-what if s-someone walks in?” From the way Alison nips harder at her skin, Emily wonders if there’s a part of her that thrives on the thought of getting caught – and vows to explore that at a time when it wouldn’t be a family member potentially catching them in the act.

“Will you let me carry on if I close it?” Alison murmurs against her skin, and Emily can only nod, and having Alison half-naked on-top of her isn’t _quite_ how she’d imagined this night going but god, she’s so glad it is.

“I thought you had to study?” She can’t help but ask as Alison slips away from her and over to her bedroom door, shutting it with a click before striding back over to her, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed.

“I do…” She trails off as she moves to straddle Emily once more, taking the brunette’s hands and pressing them over her head. “But while I was in the shower I couldn’t stop thinking about you and the fact that I wouldn’t be able to kiss you like I wanted at your place with your Mom around and if I’m not gonna be able to do this after I tell my dad about us I want to get the most out of it while I can.”

“A-and what about taking things slow?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” The reply passes her lips before Alison’s even finished speaking, and the blonde’s smirk is wicked, and then she’s dipping her head to press their lips together once again – she takes Emily’s bottom lip between her teeth and bites down gently, drawing a groan from the back of the brunette’s throat as her hands tighten their hold on Alison’s, pinned above her head.

Alison shifts so that she’s holding both of Emily’s hands in one of her own and slides her free hand down, trailing her fingers down the side of the brunette’s neck and across her collarbone, and Emily moans into the blonde’s mouth at the feeling as their tongues meet, and all she can hear is her heart, hammering loudly in her ears, and she’s lost in the feeling of so much of Alison’s bare skin against her.

Alison’s hand trails lower, tracing down her sternum, torturously slowly, and Emily can barely breathe – the blonde pulls away, then, abruptly, catches her eye and holds her gaze, asking a silent question as her palm hovers over Emily’s chest, and it’s all she can do to nod, her heart thudding impossibly faster in her chest, desire pooling low in her stomach.

Alison’s mouth is back on hers then, in a crushing kiss as she cups one of breasts in her palm, and Emily arches off the bed at the feeling, a low groan catching at the back of her throat as Alison’s tongue licks into her mouth. She slides her hand down, over her ribcage and then under her shirt and back up, and Emily struggles against the hands holding her own as Alison cups her over her bra more firmly, desperate to feel the blonde’s skin beneath her fingertips.

Alison releases her as she’s tracing a teasing finger around the edge of her bra, and Emily buries one hand in blonde hair as she tilts her head to deepen their kiss further, her other hand returning to Alison’s thigh and sinking into her skin, holding her close.

“I love you,” she gasps when Alison’s mouth leaves hers, trailing down the side of her neck, and she feels Alison smile against her skin. Her fingers finally slip beneath the lace of Emily’s bra and find a nipple, and Emily’s eyes roll back into her head as Alison traces her thumb in a lazy circle around the straining peak. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Alison breathes against the side her neck, tongue and teeth teasing the skin against the side of her neck as her fingers tease her nipple, and Emily’s in sensory overload and she’s loving every second of it.

She manages to force her eyes to stay open as she slides her hand from Alison’s ass and up her side, feeling the bump of each of her ribs and she feels Alison’s breath hitch in anticipation, and she wastes no time as she palms one of the blonde’s breasts, biting her lip to silence the groan that threatens to spill from her mouth at the feeling and god, she’d dreamed about this a thousand times but she’d never dared allow herself to think that one day it might become a reality.

Alison lifts her heads to kiss her again as she tugs the blonde’s bra aside to pinch a taut nipple and she groans when Alison returns the favour a little harsher than before, her hips jerking at the feeling and she’s pretty sure that she’s never been so wet in her _life_ and Alison’s _barely_ touched her and she’s not entirely sure that when it comes to sex she’ll even be able to _survive_ the experience.

A knock on the bedroom door has them both freezing, and Alison scrambles off of her so fast that it’s a miracle she doesn’t fall over, and she’s tugging her towel back around her shoulders as Emily’s running a frantic hand through her hair and trying to calm her rapidly beating heart and her laboured breathing.

“What is it?” Emily’s amazed that Alison’s voice is so steady as she eyes the door warily, and Emily prays that it isn’t Kenneth DiLaurentis on the other side of that door because she knows that, if he comes inside, it’s _perfectly_ obvious what they’ve just been doing and god, she’s never going to be welcome back in those house again.

“Um, I’m, uh, really sorry to… interrupt,” Jason’s uncertain voice calls through the door, and Emily sees the way Alison’s expression changes from cautious to furious in the space of a second. “But I was wondering… Can you open the door?”

“Uhhh, one sec.” Alison lets the towel drop to the floor and tugs on a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans as quickly as she can, glancing at herself in the mirror before yanking the door open and Emily tries to look as innocent as possible. “What?” Alison snaps, folding her arms across her chest and Jason grins when he glances over at Emily and sees the rumpled covers on Alison’s bed and Emily flushes red and stares resolutely down at her feet.

“Sorry,” Jason says in response to his sister’s tone, holding his hands out in-front of him in a gesture of peace. “Although you probably shouldn’t be doing whatever you were just doing without Dad knowing about it - ”

“Oh, like _you’ve_ never had girls over here without our parents knowing? _Please_.” Alison tosses her hair behind her shoulder haughtily, and Jason actually looks proud of her. “Besides, you’re never here so I don’t really see how you would or would not know what Dad approves of.”

“Pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of his baby girl being defiled - ”

“There was no defiling of any kind!” Emily defends herself quickly, her voice a tone higher than normal.

“Sure, sure,” Jason says with a smirk, and Alison smacks him on the side of the arm hard enough for him to wince.

“Hey, eyes off my girlfriend. Was there a point to you coming up here or did you just want to try and embarrass me?” Emily’s heart skips at that, because even though she’s heard Alison say the word a hundred times over the past week, it’s _different_ when she’s using it in-front of her family.

“Uh, yeah, actually, I did – I mean, half of that reason was making sure you guys weren’t having sex with me in the house - ” He ducks out of the way of Alison’s arm, this time, expecting it, grinning wryly.

“You are such a fuc - ”

“Hey, watch it,” he cuts her off, but there’s a playful edge to his voice and Emily thinks that this is perhaps the most relaxed she’s ever seen the two of them around each other, hadn’t expected her conversation with Jason to actually cause a change in him. “But seriously, I, uh, I called Dad.” He runs a hand through his hair, and actually looks nervous. “I know he’s been working a lot and hasn’t really been here for you, and I know I haven’t either and that’s pretty shitty of us both. But I thought that maybe we could try and act like a normal family, for once, y’know? So I called him and asked if we could maybe go for dinner somewhere if we drove up to his work to meet him. I mean, if you want to. I get it if you don’t want to – if my girlfriend was as hot as yours I wouldn’t want to go, either.”

“Don’t ever call my girlfriend hot again,” Alison warns, and Jason grins again as he nods. Alison pauses for a moment, then, mulling over her brother’s words – and looking shocked that any of them had come from him. “We did have plans…” She trails off, glancing towards Emily and worrying at her bottom lip.

“And that’s cool, if you’d rather spend tonight with Emily. And I mean, she can come too, if you want. The offer’s there – I’ll be downstairs if you wanna decide.” He leaves them, then, shutting the door quietly behind him. Emily reaches her hands towards Alison, and when the blonde takes them she tugs her forward until she’s stood between her legs.

“Do you want to go?” She asks softly, as Alison drapes her arms over her shoulders and plays absentmindedly with a strand of her hair.

“I… I don’t know. I think so? But I feel like there’s a catch… what the hell did you say to him while I was in the shower?”

“Nothing profound,” she replies with a shrug. “I just told him that maybe instead of trying to avoid you all the time he should try to actually build a relationship with you – I never expected him to actually listen to me. Especially not this quickly.”

“Looks like I’m not the only one in this house that you’re changing for the better,” Alison murmurs as she leans down to press a chaste kiss to Emily’s lips. “You don’t mind if I go, do you? I know we were supposed to spend the night together…”

“Of course I don’t mind, Ali.” She rubs her hands up the blonde’s sides, soft smile on her face as their eyes meet. “You should go and spend some time with your family.”

“What if…” She trails off, a worried expression on her face, and Emily waits patiently for her to finish the thought. “What if I can’t talk to them anymore? What if we’re all so different that… what if I’ve changed so much that they don’t want to know me anymore?”

“Ali,” she breathes as she reaches a hand up to cup the side of her girlfriend’s face, her thumb stroking along her cheek gently, her heart breaking at the vulnerability in Alison’s tone. “Don’t think that, okay?”

“But they haven’t been around and what if it’s because of that? Because of me?”

“They haven’t been around because they’re both idiots who probably don’t know how to act around you anymore,” she reasons gently, keeping her eyes locked with blue. “And things aren’t going to fix themselves overnight, and there’ll be a few stumbles along the way. But they’re your family, babe, and they might not be perfect or amazing and they might say the wrong thing every now and again, but… they love you. And everyone has to start somewhere, right? At least they’ve both trying.”

“Have I mentioned that I love you?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Emily replies with a grin, and Alison laughs and bends to press another brief kiss against her lips.

“And you’re not tired of it yet?”

“Never.” 

 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

"I'll see you for dinner tonight?" Her dad asks as he pulls the car to a stop outside the doors of Rosewood High, and Alison nods as she reaches for the handle of the door, an easy smile on her face.

"I'll be home around seven thirty."

"Then I will see you then." He smiles as he watches her leave, not driving away until after she's inside, and she turns in the doorway to wave and can't quite wipe her own smile from her face, because he's actually  _trying_ and they'd never had a good relationship before she'd disappeared – or any kind of relationship, really. She'd been too volatile and too uncontrollable, always wanting to do her own thing on her own terms and he hadn't been able to deal with his little girl turning into a monster (into her mother), in-front of his eyes.

So he'd ignored her, for the most part. The summer she'd disappeared, he'd barely been home, choosing instead to spend his time at work, avoiding the yelling in the house because god, there was a lot of it. Between her and Jason, who were always in the middle of a screaming match, and their mother trying to control the pair of them… it hadn't been the greatest environment, for any of them.

She doesn't miss it.

Sometimes she feels a pang in her chest whenever she's reminded of her mother, when she's overcome with a memory, or when she catches a glimpse of a photograph out of the corner of her eye.

But there's also a part of her that's… that's almost  _glad_ that she'd never had to lay eyes on her mother once she'd come back to town. That she'd never had to lock eyes with a woman she hadn't seen since her view of her had been obscured by dirt being piled on-top of her limp body.

God, just the thought of it makes her sick – she can't even go out in the yard without feeling like she can't breathe, remembers so clearly the feeling of soil at the back of her throat. Pepe always stands and looks at her, hovering in the doorway as she waits for him to do his business, staring with a toy in his mouth with his tail wagging frantically behind him, but she rarely finds the courage to step outside to play with him because the place fills her with dread.

She knows that it's not healthy, the fact that she can't step into her own backyard, that she's haunted by the memory of her dead mother in every room of the place that she calls home. It's just one of the many reasons why she tries to stay out for as long as she possibly can every day – but one of those reasons doesn't exist anymore, because her Dad is actually home for more than one night a week and she and Jason can actually have a civil conversation without trying to kill each other.

That wasn't to say it's been easy, since their dinner the other night, and it hasn't been free of awkwardness, but… they're both trying, and she feels like they're actually  _getting_ somewhere, and she feels like they've acted more like a family over the past four days than they ever have before.

She's broken from her reverie when someone crashes into her as she's walking down the hallway, the force of it sending her hurtling backwards so that she collides with a row of lockers and she winces, rubbing at her shoulder as she turns to glare at the culprit – when she sees Mona standing a foot away from her with a smirk on her face, she clenches her jaw.

She's barely seen the girl since she and Emily had had their altercation a couple of weeks ago, which had surprised her – she'd expected some kind of retaliation from Mona for humiliating her in-front of so many people, but she's been unusually quiet.

But now, as she looks at Alison, her eyes glittering with malice, she wonders if Mona's just been planning her payback for a long time.

She swallows hard, sets her jaw and lifts her head high and walks away without a word, and she can feel Mona's eyes on her as she moves down the hall, and she hates the fact that her hands shake as she unlocks her locker, but she can't help it. She doesn't think she'll ever be at ease around Mona, not after everything, still remembers the panic rising in chest as she'd heard the door to the janitor's closest clicking shut behind her, and she hates even more the fact that Mona knows exactly what it is that will bring Alison to her knees.

She notices the whispers that ring around her as she's reaching for a textbook and she frowns, glancing around her and seeing several people looking hastily away, but she brushes it off as she heads to her first class of the day – she's used to people gossiping about her, after all. She used to enjoy it, having her name on everyone's lips, but now she longs to be invisible, to be able to walk the halls of Rosewood High without eyes following her everywhere she goes, but she knows that will probably never happen again. She just hopes she doesn't have to spend much longer in this godforsaken place.

She seems to be a topic of conversation more than usual, today, though, and by fourth period she's tired of it, of people staring at her as she walks by before covering their mouths and speaking in hushed tones, and she's heading towards the cafeteria when she decides she's had enough, whirling around to face two freshmen who pointed at her as she strode past.

"What the  _fuck_ is your problem?" She snaps, and both the girls' eyes widen in fear, their mouths opening but no words coming out, and Alison huffs and rolls her eyes before stalking away – she's stopped a little way down the hall by a senior who had asked her out on her second day back, and she's almost shouldered her way past him when his taunting voice reaches her ears.

"At least I know why you turned me down, now." She raises an eyebrow, annoyance settling over her features because she's already  _done_ with this day and she's barely even halfway through it. "Didn't realise you were a dyke."

"What did you say?" Her voice is low, her eyes flashing, and his smug expression falters when he sees the dangerous look on her face, and she almost smirks when he takes a minute step backwards, throat working as he swallows.

"You and Fields. The whole school knows." He turns cocky again, then, smirk pulling at his lips, apparently deciding that it's worth risking her wrath. "Say, can you guys let me watch sometime?" She snarls, her hand raising and she slaps him across the face before he can even blink, nails raking across his skin and it feels really fucking  _good_ , to let her inner bitch come out to play, just for a little while, and around them the hallway grows quiet as he clutches at his cheek and stares at her with angry eyes. "You crazy fucking bitch!"

"Hey!" Students scatter at the sound of an adult voice and Alison doesn't even flinch as her history teacher, Mrs Ellis, appears from inside one of the classrooms. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," the guy mutters sullenly, and Alison smiles sweetly when she teacher's gaze turns to her – they stare at one another for a moment before she shakes her head and disappears back into her classroom.

"Say anything like that again," Alison hisses when she's gone, taking a step closer to the guy and feeling a flash of gratification as he flinches a little. "And I'll make your life a living hell."

"Yeah? And how are you gonna do that, Ali? Maybe you used to rule the school but you don't anymore. You can't do shit."

"Try me," she snarls, the words vicious, fury licking through her veins and she aches to hit him again, to lash out at each and every single person she can feel staring at her, but she knows that it won't solve a thing so instead she takes a deep breath and she turns and walks away, and she wonders, as she shoves her things inside her locker and heads towards the cafeteria, how the entire school has managed to find out about her relationship overnight.

And then she remembers angry eyes and a smirking mouth and she shakes her head, wondering how she could be so stupid, because of  _course_. Of course this is how Mona would choose to enact her revenge – by outing her to the entire student body.

She's fuming, as she drops into her usual seat in the cafeteria, thinking that if she catches sight of Mona she's going to wring her neck, and Spencer takes one look at her face and lets out a long sigh, sympathy in her eyes.

"I'm guessing you heard."

"That Emily and I are the news of the day?" She stabs a little viciously at her salad with her fork, imagining that it's Mona's face. "Kinda hard to miss it seeing as that's all anyone's talking about."

"How did they know?" Aria's the one that asks, sat on Spencer's left, and Alison tries to ignore the whispers that still echo around them as she answers, injecting the name with as much venom as she possibly can.

"Mona."

"Oh." Neither of them look surprised, and Alison supposes that she isn't either – it was only a matter of time before something happened, really. She just wishes that she'd done something other than  _this_.

"Ali," Emily's voice reaches her ears as the brunette drops into the seat beside her, relief colouring her voice, and Alison thinks that she's the only thing that can make her feel any better about this day. "I'm sorry."

"What are  _you_ sorry for?" She turns to eye her girlfriend, looking at her with apologetic eyes, and frowns. "You didn't do anything."

"I know, I just… I know this isn't exactly what you wanted."

"I don't care that they know," she murmurs, because she doesn't, not really – she'd never been interested in hiding her relationship from the world, she just doesn't think that it should be anyone else's  _business_. She supposes she's going to be telling her Dad about her relationship with Emily sooner rather than later, though. "I just wish it was on our terms."

"I know." Emily's hand lands on her thigh beneath the table, squeezing gently, and Alison manages a tiny smile, leaning to the side and letting her head rest on the brunette's shoulder. "Where's Hanna?" Emily asks the other two, then, and they share a look before Spencer replies, smile twitching at her lips.

"She's in detention."

"What, why?"

"There may or may not have been an asshole making comments about the two of you in chem lab and she may or may not have kneed him in the groin halfway through class."

"Oh my God," Emily breathes with wide eyes and Alison presses her lips together to smother a laugh at the mental image the story provides – even if she is a little shocked that Hanna would go to such lengths for the two of them, when Alison knows she's still wary about their relationship.

"We told her to wait until class ended," Aria pipes up, "so that there would be less witnesses, but she couldn't wait."

"Well I just slapped a guy, so I know how she feels."

" _What_?" Emily looks appalled, and Alison shrugs, because what else was she  _supposed_ to do? She doesn't have the self-control to walk away in situations like that, and she never has.

"He deserved it, trust me. And maybe it'll shut people up."

"Yeah, I don't think so," Emily murmurs quietly, glancing around them, and Alison decides not to let it bother her, tries to relax in Emily's arms as the brunette wraps one around her waist and pulls her close, trying to lose herself in talking to her friends, but her mind won't stop working on overdrive, panicking about how the hell she's supposed to tell her Dad that she's dating a girl at dinner later that night.

She hates that she's been forced into it but she knows that she can't put it off anymore, not when the longer she does, the more chance there is he'll find out from someone else and that is the  _last_ thing she wants. And it's not like she thinks he'll have a problem with it, not really, because he knows and loves Emily and she's hoping that he'll take it okay because she'd hate for their barely re-built relationship to come crashing down so soon.

It plays on her mind for the rest of the day, so much that she barely pays attention in any of her classes (on the plus side – she barely notices the extra eyes on her, either), and when she slips into Matt's car after her last class of the day he takes one look at her face before letting out a low whistle.

"Rough day at the office?"

"You could say that." He doesn't push, and for that she's grateful, and she stares out of the window as he drives, the car silent aside from the low music coming from the radio. "I got outed to the whole school today," she murmurs eventually, her voice quiet, and she watches Matt's hands tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles flashing white.

"Okay, just tell me who I need to kill and I'm there." Her lips quirk into a smile at his protectiveness, because she's never really  _had_ that before. "Seriously."

"Tempting, but… I don't really think it'll solve anything," she sighs, pressing her head back against the seat behind her. She's pretty sure that retaliating against Mona won't end well for her, and while the damage has already been done she'd rather stand quietly in the shadows and hope that Mona hightails it out of Rosewood soon after graduation and leaves her in peace (optimistic, she knows – she doubts Mona's finished with her, not yet).

"I don't care, no-one has the right to do that to you. No-one."

"Yeah, well," she sighs again, shaking her head. "It's out there, now."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "It's not something I ever really thought about. Before… before, this would have been my worst nightmare." She remembers all too easily the paralyzing fear that had slipped into her whenever she'd thought about someone finding out about the things she and Emily did together when they were alone, the kisses they traded and the affectionate words they shared, but now? "But now… I guess I'm just tired of being all anyone has to talk about."

"Well, you do have a pretty fascinating story," Matt says gently as he pulls the car to a stop in the parking lot of the stables, and as Alison breathes it in she feels at ease for the first time since her Dad had dropped her off that morning. "And you and Emily are probably the hottest couple in school – people are gonna talk."

"I know." She would've been one of those people, not so long ago, she knows. "I just wish they didn't."

"You'll be old news, soon enough." Alison very much doubts that, but she doesn't say anything. She should be used to it, by now, her name on everyone's lips, but with each day that passes she just hates it even more.

It's easy to push that from her mind whilst she's working, though, sinking into her tasks with more enthusiasm than usual and wishing that she could spend her days here, instead of stuck behind a desk in a classroom where she feels like she isn't learning a single thing that will help her survive outside the school walls.

She'd managed just fine on her own, for two years (well, maybe not  _fine_  – there had been some days where she wasn't entirely sure that she'd make it through, but she  _had_ ), without finishing her education, and now she's being forced to stay in school whilst those around her graduate and move on with their lives, while she has absolutely no idea what she wants to do, going forward.

She wonders if Emily does. They still haven't talked about it much, but she thinks that they probably should – if Emily's going to be moving to the other side of the country at the end of the year, Alison wants to know about it sooner rather than later but the thought of it, of Emily being so far away from her again, makes her heart ache. But she's not going to hold the brunette back, wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did, and at the very least, she supposes, she'll have very little to concentrate on other than her studies with Emily gone, and maybe that'll mean she can graduate and join her sooner, rather than later.

She feels better, by the time she meets up with Matt again for him to drive her home, although she feels nerves fluttering in her stomach as she stares at her front door, unable to move out of the car, and she can't stop the doubts from swirling through her mind.

She reminds herself that she'd been fine on her own, that she can survive without her brother and her father, that if this all goes south that she'll always have Emily, at the end of it all, and it's that thought that gives her the strength to wrap her hand around the door handle and force herself out of the car and through her front door.

The house is quiet apart from the sound of music playing in the kitchen, and when she sticks her head through the doorway Pepe comes bounding from the backyard, slamming into her and nearly knocking her off her feet and she grins as she bends down to greet him, hands rubbing along his sides.

"Where's Jason?" She asks her Dad, who stands with his back to her at the stove, and her hands shake as she pets Pepe's fur; he whines, pressing himself back against her legs, trying to comfort her and she manages a small smile as she glances down to see him looking up at her.

"He's in the shower." Her Dad turns around, then, and when he sees the look on her face he pauses. "Is everything okay?"

"I… I need to tell you something." He folds his arms across his chest, leaning back against the kitchen counter and Alison can feel her heart beating rapidly in her ears. "I… I'm seeing someone."

"Oh." Surprise flickers across his face, and she doesn't really blame him – she'd never introduced any of her past boyfriends to him or her mother before, too terrified that they'd take one look at her crazy family and run in the opposite direction. "Isn't it a little soon for that?"

"Not in the grand scheme of things," Alison murmurs quietly, as she considers the fact that her relationship with Emily has been nearly three years in the making. "We were… involved, kind of, before I left."

"Anyone I know?"

"You could say that." He waits with an eyebrow raised expectantly and she sighs, knowing it's now or never. "It's Emily." She watches his eyes widen slightly as he processes that, waits with baited breath for his reply.

"So you're… are you…"

"Gay?" She supplies helpfully, waiting for him to nod before she speaks again. "No. I don't know what I am, really." She doesn't think about it too much, doesn't see why she needs to label herself because it's no-one's business but her own. "But I'm in love with her." She watches the shock cross his face at that, and she wonders if he'd ever expected her to say that word aloud, if he'd been as convinced that his daughter was incapable of love as Alison had thought herself. "And that's all that matters to me."

"You're happy?"

"Happier than I've ever been in my entire life," she answers honestly, because she is – she'd been alone for so long, convinced that she'd never have someone, that she'd never have the only person she'd ever truly wanted, and she still thinks that it's a miracle that Emily still wants her, after everything, but she  _does_ and sometimes, if she thinks about it for too long, she swears that her heart swells with happiness (and she knows how that sounds, pathetic and ridiculous, but that's the only way she feels like she can  _explain_ it).

"Okay." He nods to himself before turning back to the stove, resuming his cooking and she can tell that he's going to need time to process this, that she's dumping something huge on him out of nowhere, but she appreciates the fact that he's trying.

She feels lighter, now that she's not hiding such a huge part of herself, now that everything's out in the open, and she can't help but wonder how long this will last for – something always seems to go wrong, whenever things start to go right for her. It's how she's lived for the last few years, and it's made her wary, always second-guessing, but she tells herself that it's pointless worrying about something she can't control, and she releases a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding as she turns her attention back to Pepe, letting him coax her towards the back door as he darts back outside.

She stands there watching him for a long moment before taking a tiny step, moving over the threshold and onto the concrete beyond, and she glances towards the patch of ground where she'd been buried alive and she shudders, mind flashing back to that night the way it always does, whenever she thinks of it and the fear is paralyzing, panic flooding through her until she takes a deep breath and tears her gaze away, back towards Pepe who stands with a football held between his teeth.

She tells herself she's being stupid, that there's nothing out here to fear, not anymore, and for the first time since returning to Rosewood she steps into her backyard and towards Pepe, laughing as he barks in excitement, the noise muffled by the ball, and they play until her Dad calls her name – she turns to see him watching them with something like relief on his face and she wonders if he'd noticed her reluctance to be out here, if he'd guessed at the reasons behind it (she doesn't think so – she'd never told him about that night, about what her Mom had done, and she doesn't think that he needs to live through the horror of it, like she had).

"Good day at school, Ali?" Jason asks as she slides into her seat at the table, Pepe curling up by her feet, and she makes a face around the glass of water she lifts to her lips at the question.

"I've had better."

"People aren't giving you trouble, are they?" Her Dad interrupts, anger on his face and she rolls her eyes, because the overprotective thing is getting kind of old, now, and she can take care of  _herself_.

"Nothing I can't handle." He looks like he wants to say something else but keeps quiet, and they eat in companionable silence for a little while before he speaks again.

"I thought I'd better let the two of you know that I have a business trip next weekend," he starts, and Alison's face lights up before she can stop it, thinking about what  _fun_ she can have alone with Emily for an entire weekend – her Dad throws her a stern look, like he knows exactly what she's thinking, and she hastily averts her gaze. "I trust that you'll keep each other in check while I'm gone?"

"Of course." She smiles sweetly and Jason smirks, hiding his mouth behind his own glass of water. "We'll be fine."


	18. Chapter Eighteen

A light knock at her bedroom door has Alison lifting her head from the textbook she's got spread open across her bed, pen in one hand and notebook resting beneath her other as she tries to catch up on her homework for the weekend as early as possible, leaving her the time to do things that are decidedly  _less_ educational, her Dad having left for his trip earlier that morning.

"Come in," she calls, and her door opens a crack, enough for Pepe to slip through and leap onto her bed, stretching himself out by her side and resting his head on his paws. "Did you have a good walk, buddy?" She asks as she shifts to press a kiss to the top of his head, wrinkling her nose when he moves and licks a long line across her cheek. "Gross, Pepe."

"I'm going to head out." She glances up to see Jason leaning his shoulder back against her doorframe, a bag slung over his shoulder and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket as he watches the two of them. "You sure you'll be alright?"

"It's not like I'm planning on being alone." She'd not-so-gently persuaded her brother to go and spend the weekend in Philly, reminding him of the numerous times she'd helped him cover up the fact that he'd always had girls over whenever their parents had left them alone and he was  _supposed_ to be keeping an eye on his baby sister – she'd pointed out that it was only fair that he return the favour, and he'd rolled his eyes but agreed soon enough, and she'd been so happy that she'd  _almost_ hugged him.

"True." There's a half-smirk on his face and she narrows her eyes into a glare and it quickly disappears, replaced by an easy smile instead. "Alright, well I'll see you tomorrow night. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Ugh, please," she replies with a scoff, tossing her hair over her shoulder and arching an eyebrow. "Was there anything you  _didn't_ do? Alcohol, drugs, parties, girls… spying on your sisters friends - "

"I know I was messed up, I don't need the reminder." There's an edge to his voice and a conflicted look on his face, and it's the first time since she got back that she's really brought up their tumultuous past and she's wondering if she's pushed too far when he speaks again. "I never… I never apologised for any of that. For what I did. I… I hurt you." She winces at the reminder, and his expression turns contrite. "And I know saying sorry doesn't making up for it, and neither does making excuses but I… I regret who I used to be, Ali. I'm not that person anymore."

"I know," she murmurs softly, because she does – she thinks that she can understand that more than most, because she's sure as hell not the same girl  _she_  used to be. "I forgive you."

"Yeah?" He looks uncertain, hunched in her doorway like he feels like he doesn't belong there, and she wonders if maybe they can have more than the antagonistic relationship they've always shared, if she can have the big brother she'd always wanted.

"Yeah."

"Okay." They share a smile and then he glances at the clock hanging on her wall and curses at the time. "I'd better go otherwise I'll be late."

"What's her name?" She calls before he can leave, because she's sure the reason that Jason's been away so often recently is because he has a girlfriend he isn't telling anyone about.

"Who says there's a girl?"

"A guy, then?" She teases, and he rolls his eyes. "Come on, you know about my girlfriend. It's only fair to share."

"Her name's Lisa, and if I'm late one more time she's going to kill me."

"Then get outta here." He calls out a goodbye when he's halfway through the door and she turns to glance at Pepe when his ears prick up at the sound of the front door closing. "It's just me and you now, bud."

Not for long, though – Emily's supposed to be there within the hour, and the rest of the girls are coming over a little later. She'd been hesitant about extending the invitation, because while things had been going well they still haven't really hung out much outside of school (and she's still a little scarred from that horror movie she'd been forced to watch – she'd spent the entire thing with her head buried in Emily's shoulder), but she's determined that they'll get back to where they once were, only better, because this time there won't be secrets and lies separating the five of them.

She manages to finish her homework about two minutes before the doorbell rings, and she practically bounces down the stairs, Pepe hot on her heels, grinning as she opens the door to reveal her smiling girlfriend, a bouquet of roses held in her hands.

"What's this?" She asks as she nods towards the flowers and the brunette shrugs, dipping her head a little before she answers.

"I saw them when I was making my way over here and I thought you'd like them." She sounds shy, and it makes Alison smile – she knows that she still makes Emily nervous, sometimes, because this is so new to both of them, and she thinks it's adorable.

"I love them." She reaches out to take the flowers from between Emily's fingers, curling her free hand around the back of the brunette's neck and bringing their lips together for a brief kiss. "Thank you."

She leaves Emily to greet Pepe while she pads towards the kitchen to get a vase, filling it with water and the roses before setting it in the centre of the kitchen island, and she turns when she's done to reach for Emily's hands, tugging her close so that Alison's trapped between the counter and Emily's body.

"I missed you." They've barely had a chance to see each other that week, Alison busy at work and Emily busy with coaching, and Alison had been forced to spend most of her lunch hours cramming for the history test that their teacher had sprung on them. "How was your swim meet?"

"We won." Emily's eyes light up in that way they always do when she talks about something that she loves, but there's an echo of sadness in them, too, and Alison knows that she misses swimming, more than Alison herself will ever be able to understand. "It was amazing."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there." They'd been short staffed at the stables and no amount of pleading with Stephen had been able to get her the night off, and she'd only managed to get herself home at half past eight, two hours after the meet had ended.

"It's fine, Ali, I told you. There'll be other meets."

"But it was your first one as coach," she pouts, hating the fact that she's still missing important events in Emily's life, even though she's back in town, now – she remembers learning that Emily had made it onto the school swim team the year that Alison had gone missing, and one of her biggest regrets is that she'd never got to see her mermaid in action.

"It's fine," Emily repeats, one of her hands curling around Alison's cheek, tilting her head up. "Now, come here." Emily kisses her languidly, soft and slow, and she moans into the brunette's mouth as her hands wind around Emily's neck, one running through her hair, nails scratching lightly across her scalp.

Emily's hands drop to Alison's waist, fingers slipping through the belt loops on her jeans and tugging their hips together, and Alison can feel the ridge of the counter digging into her back as a thigh slips between her legs and she groans.

"Maybe the kitchen isn't the best place for this." She tears her mouth away from Emily's to murmur the words, her breathing laboured, and the brunette hums in agreement before using her hold on the blonde's hips to tug her away from the counter, walking backwards towards the living room and Alison reconnects their lips as they walk, tongue pressing into Emily's mouth and stroking against her own.

They break apart with a laugh when Emily almost trips over Pepe on her way into the living room, and Alison shoos him away before pushing Emily down on the couch and straddling her lap, hands tangling in dark hair as she angles Emily's head towards her, leaning down to capture the brunette's bottom lip between her teeth.

"I love you," she murmurs, because she can't help but want to say it as often as she possibly can, before slanting her mouth against her girlfriend's, kissing her hot and hard and it's been so  _long_ since they could be like this that Alison already feels like she's on fire, her skin burning beneath Emily's hands as the splay across her lower back.

When their lips part Emily's mouth trails down her neck, teeth and tongue playing across her skin and Alison moans at the feeling, one hand scrambling for purchase across the back of the couch as the other tightens its grip in Emily's hair, her knuckles flashing white.

Emily shifts them, moving to press Alison down against the couch cushions and settling herself on-top of the blonde; a thigh falls between Alison's legs and she groans, hips shifting against the pressure and Emily's breath rushes out of her lungs in a stuttered gasp, her mouth warm against the side of Alison's neck.

"Remind me why I invited the girls over here again?" Alison asks as her hands curl around the edge of Emily's shirt, tugging it up over her ribs impatiently – they've gotten to this point a few times before (but never any further), and each and every time the sight of the brunette takes her breath away.

"Because you want to spend time with them?" Emily sits up to yank her shirt over her head and Alison bites her bottom lip as she admires the sight of so much skin bare before her. "What time are they getting here?"

"Two."

"Well, then that's plenty of time." Eager hands push at Alison's shirt and she arches her back to allow it to be tugged away, smirking as Emily throws it over her shoulder without looking.

"Plenty of time for what?"

"Mm, let me show you." Emily flattens her body back over Alison's, dragging her mouth down the blonde's sternum and the breath leaves Alison's lungs as a strangled gasp, her back arching as her hands find purchase on Emily's shoulders, fingers digging sharply into her skin as the brunette's mouth reaches her chest, breath teasing her skin.

When a hand slips beneath her back to flick open the clasp of her bra she lets her eyes flutter closed, muscles tight with anticipation as Emily's hair tickles at her skin – when the brunette's lips brush against the side of one her breasts she moans, and when a tongue flicks against one of her nipples she shudders, lips parting in a quiet curse as she arches into Emily's mouth.

It's only the second time they've gotten this far – they'd managed to snatch two hours alone at Emily's house last week when her Mom had been called into work – but Alison wants to do it a thousand times more, losing herself completely in the feeling of Emily's lips, teeth and tongue working across her skin.

There's still a thigh pressed between her legs and beneath her jeans she's so wet that she's surprised that Emily can't feel it, even through the denim – when teeth graze across one of her nipples her hips buck against the brunette's thigh, the seam of her jeans pressing against her clit for one amazing second and her teeth bite into her bottom lip as she throws her head back against the arm of the couch, breathless and wanting and, not for the first time, she curses herself for agreeing to take things slow.

She runs a hand through Emily's hair, urging her head back up to press a bruising kiss to her lips as she grinds her hips against the brunette's thigh and Emily's groan reverberates through Alison's mouth as Emily rocks back against her.

One of Alison's hands runs down the brunette's back and into the back pocket of her jeans, encouraging her hips to move faster, while her other drops to Emily's chest, palming one of her breasts through the thin lace of her bra.

Alison feels like she's aflame, every nerve in her body alight, white-hot pleasure sparking through her entire body with every arch of her hips, and she's never felt like this before – she's had sex, a few times, but it had always been a lot of awkward fumbling, over just as soon as it began, and she's never actually managed to come from it but this is… she already feels like she's flying and Emily's barely even touched her yet but she  _wants_ her to, she wants to feel every inch of Emily's body pressed against her, wants Emily to make her fall apart with her hands and her mouth, wants to do the same and doesn't want to stop until she's had enough (she doesn't think she'll ever have enough – not if it feels like this).

She's almost embarrassed at how little time it takes before she's shuddering against the brunette's body, breathing Emily's name against her lips as she comes, ecstasy flooding through her as the breath is pushed from her lungs.

Emily pulls back slightly, and Alison can feel the brunette's eyes on her face even though she can barely open hers, and when she manages to she sees Emily's pupils are blown wide, her face flushed and desire written across her face and Alison wants nothing more than to drag her upstairs and finish what they'd started.

"I - " She starts, but she's interrupted by a knock on the door and her eyes widen, her head snapping around to glance at the time and she hears Emily swear quietly as she scrambles off the blonde and reaches for her shirt, and Alison has half a mind to tell the girls to go away and come back tomorrow, but… it's been a while, since they'd all hung out, and she'd missed it, she'd missed  _them_  and the weekly get-togethers they'd used to have where they'd watch movies and eat popcorn and play stupid games, and she sighs, regret flooding through her as she tugs her bra and shirt back on as Emily throws them towards her. "We'll revisit this later," she promises, her breath hot in Emily's ear as she heads towards the front door, running a hand through her hair as she goes, knowing that it's going to do little to disguise what they'd just been doing.

She opens the door to find all three girls on the other side, and before she can even open her mouth to say hello Hanna is narrowing her eyes at Alison, taking in her flushed cheeks and dishevelled clothing, and she tuts in disapproval.

" _So_ do not want to know what we just interrupted." Spencer coughs to hide a laugh and Alison rolls her eyes, standing aside to let the three of them inside.

"Yeah," she says with a smirk, unable to resist the opportunity to wind Hanna up. "You probably don't." Hanna makes a face as she strides past Alison and into the house, Aria and Spencer following in their wake, and Alison tries not to look guilty as her eyes land on Emily, lounging on the couch in the living room. Pepe fusses over the girls as Alison curls up next to her girlfriend, taking one of her hands within her own and resting her head on her shoulder, sighing softly with contentment.

"I always wanted a dog," Hanna murmurs as she sits cross-legged on the floor with Pepe's head in her lap, hands scratching behind his ears. "My parents never let me get one."

"Probably because you can't keep a  _cactus_ alive for longer than a month," Spencer replies dryly, and Hanna's expression hardens into a glare as she glances up at the brunette.

"Dogs are easier to look after than cactuses." Spencer's mouth opens to disagree, but Hanna shuts her up with another glare. "At least a dog can tell you when it needs food."

"That's not really - "

"So what movies are we watching today?" Hanna deftly changes the subject, talking over Spencer as she does, and Alison smiles as she watches their bickering, loving how it feels so much like old times.

"I promised to give Ali a movie education on what she missed while she was gone," Emily pipes up, her thumb stroking absently across the back of Alison's hand, "so what's everyone's favourite from the last two years?"

"You really didn't see anything in that whole time?" Aria asks, her voice quiet but curious, and Alison knows it's because she's barely talked about her time away with the three of them – she's told Emily some of it, but not all, and she hates thinking about it sometimes, about how difficult it was just to  _survive_.

"Kinda hard to find the time to go to the movies when you're on the run and your face is plastered on missing posters everywhere," she replies softly, looking down at her and Emily's entwined hands. "And it wasn't like I had the money spare, either."

"Didn't you get bored?" There's no sympathy in Hanna's voice or gaze, just more curiosity that Alison knows she'll find in Spencer's eyes, too.

"A little," she shrugs, because how can she go about explaining how most nights, especially in the beginning, she'd had nothing but her thoughts to keep her company? How she'd spent hours replaying her past mistakes in her head, seeing the faces of her friends, the hurt in their eyes whenever she'd said something cruel, wishing that she could take every second of it back? "I had a lot of time to reflect on things."

"Where did you live?" Alison shifts, uncomfortable with all of their eyes on her but she knows that she owes them some sort of explanation – it wasn't just Emily who had believed she was dead, who had cried for her lost friend, and they deserve to know as much as she can tell them.

"I didn't really  _have_ anywhere to live. I spent some time in an abandoned warehouse. It was… it was a roof over my head, at the very least." She shivers slightly as she remembers it, the seeping cold on those winter nights where she'd wondered if she'd freeze to death – one of the homeless kids she'd shared it with had, dying of hypothermia as the rest of them had slept, and she remembers waking up to the screams of one of his friends in the morning.

"You never should have left." It's not an accusation, not exactly – but Hanna's voice is sharp, her stare hard, and Alison has to look away.

"I know." She'd thought about it a hundred times – what things could have been like, had she stayed. She could've worked on being a better person, on repairing her fractured relationships with the ones she loved, one by one. She could've been Emily's first girlfriend, along with being her first love, and maybe she would have saved them both a lot of pain. "But I didn't. I was scared."

"Mona wouldn't have hurt you."

"I don't know about that," she says darkly, because she still remembers the cold look on her face, in the hallway, and she knows that the girls have largely forgiven Mona for the things that she'd done (Alison doesn't, for the life of her, understand  _how_ ), but she doesn't think she ever will.

"She wouldn't," Hanna says, her voice laced with certainty, but there's a dubious look on Spencer's face that she blinks away when Alison looks towards her.

"Maybe, maybe not," Alison shrugs, desperate to talk about something else other than the girl that still seems to haunt her, even after everything Alison had done to get away. "But either way it doesn't matter – I can't change the past, or what I did."

The room is quiet for a few moments after that, Alison's words sinking into all of them, before Emily takes a deep breath and reminds them that they still haven't picked a movie, and Alison squeezes her hand gratefully at the change of subject. After much arguing between the four of them, while Alison looks on with amusement, they decide on some sort of comedy that Alison's never even heard of but is happy to watch as long as she can curl up at her girlfriend's side.

They're about halfway through – the movie often interjected with commentary from both Hanna and Spencer, who the rest of them had long ago learned had a complete inability to sit through an entire movie without speaking – when Aria's, Hanna's and Spencer's phones chime in unison.

Five sets of eyes widen at the sound, and Alison's throat feels tight and she realises, as she glances around the room, that the others all feel the same dread that she feels churning in her gut whenever their phone rings with a text and she hates it, hates that she's managed, however unintentionally, to bring the four of them the same kind of terror that had driven herself out of town over three years ago.

She'd left because she thought, with her out of the way, the rest of them would be safe – that without her, they'd be protected from whatever shadowy figure had been following her. But she'd been so, so wrong.

"It's okay," Spencer breathes, the first to move towards her phone and glance at the screen. "It's just Alice from chem lab – she wants to know if we've done the homework yet." The three of them share a shaky laugh, but Alison can't quite bring herself to join in.

"I hate to bring it up," Hanna starts after a few moments of tense silence. "But is anyone else thinking that it's been a while since any of us heard from A?" There's a quiet murmur of agreement, and Alison hates the fact that, even when the bitch is silent, they still live in constant fear that  _something_ is coming. "What do you think that means?" Hanna looks towards Spencer as she asks, and it's the brunette who answers, her voice grim.

"Usually? Nothing good."

x-x-x

"Did you have a good time today?" Emily asks as Alison shuts her bedroom door behind her. She'd shown the three girls out a little while ago, after an afternoon that had been more fun than she'd had for a long, long while – she was kind of glad that they were gone, though, leaving her alone for the night with her gorgeous girlfriend, and she's practically buzzing with anticipation as she stalks towards the brunette perched on the edge of her bed, stepping between Emily's legs and draping her arms over her shoulders.

"Mhm," she drawls before dipping her head, mouth pressing against Emily's ear. "But not as much of a good time as we're going to have tonight."

"Oh yeah?" She merely hums in answer, tongue teasing at the brunette's earlobe before she turns her head to press a kiss against her lips, instead. Emily's mouth moves slowly against hers and she soon grows impatient, because there's been a fire building within her since earlier that afternoon, since she'd come apart against Emily's thigh, and it's not long before her hands are pulling the thin material of Emily's shirt away from her skin once again, quickly followed by her own.

Her hands drop to the button of her jeans, then, with Emily's watchful gaze on her – when her hands hook through the loops to tug them down her legs, Emily's hands catch her wrists, stopping her, and she glances down at her girlfriend, puzzled.

"What… what are you doing?" There's a slightly strangled note to Emily's voice, and Alison smirks as she takes in the want and the desire etched across the brunette's face, amazed, as she is every time they're like this, that she can have such an effect on her.

"Taking my pants off," she answers slowly, a meaningful look on her face – she'd told Emily that she wanted to wait but she doesn't anymore, wants nothing more than to feel bare skin beneath her fingertips, wants to lose herself in the only woman she's sure she'll ever love. "Is that not okay?"

"That's… Christ, no, it's okay, I just… is that… something that you want?" Alison thinks it's cute, how Emily can barely concentrate, her eyes constantly skittering from Alison's face to her chest to where her black lacy underwear peeks out from underneath her jeans where they now rise, low on her hips.

"Well, we're all alone in my house." She shifts her hands experimentally in Emily's grip and, finding no resistance, wiggles out of her jeans, letting them fall to the floor and stepping out of them, watching the way Emily's eyes follow the movement of the denim as it slides down her legs, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard. "For the  _entire_ night. And you're very, very hot and you're in my bed and if I start kissing you I don't think I'm ever going to be able to stop."

"I thought you wanted to wait." Emily's breathing is shallow, her chest already heaving as the implications of Alison's words start to sink in.

"I don't want to wait another second to be with you." She's about to ask if Emily's okay with this, too, because even though Alison's the one with the least experience here, Emily had wanted to wait, as well – but hands reach out and wrap around her hips before she can say a single her word, her lips covered with a crushing kiss as Emily tugs her closer, and she falls on-top of the brunette on the bed, her laugh echoing into Emily's mouth.

They break apart only to shuffle further up the bed so their legs don't hang off the edge, and Alison enjoys the feeling of Emily stretched out beneath her, the rough denim of the brunette's jeans scraping against her bare legs as she shifts to blaze a trail of kisses over the side of Emily's jaw and down her neck.

She'd learned pretty early on that there was a spot where Emily's neck met her shoulder that never failed to make her knees go weak, and as she grazes against it with her teeth she hears Emily breathe out a quiet curse below her, her hands, gripping tightly at strands of blonde hair, flexing, and the brief flash of pain has Alison breathing out a quiet hiss against the brunette's skin.

She drags her mouth lower, flicking open the clasp of Emily's bra and yanking it impatiently away from her skin so that she can lavish her breasts with attention, her teeth and tongue teasing at a nipple until Emily is trembling beneath her.

Alison can barely breathe as she pulls her head away, hands sliding down across the taut muscles of Emily's stomach until she reaches the buckle of the belt at her jeans and she pauses, hesitant – she waits until Emily's eyes flicker open, reading the question in her eyes before she nods, and Alison's hands tug the belt open, dragging them down Emily's legs and throwing them to the floor.

She pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of Emily, bare but for the pair of skimpy underwear that sit snug on her hips, laid out before her, and she thinks that she's never seen a sight more beautiful than this. She's lost count of the number of times she's thought about this, thinking that it would never happen, that she'd never have it, and now that she's here, in this moment, she kind of wants to pinch herself to make sure that she's not dreaming.

"Come here," Emily says softly, and Alison glances up to see the brunette's gaze on her face, her eyes soft, and she releases a shaky breath as she leans forward, draping herself across Emily's body and letting out a shaky sigh at the feeling of bare skin against her own. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she murmurs against Emily's mouth before they're kissing again, exploring each other's mouths like it's the first time while their hands wander, brushing across soft skin, their sighs and moans quietened by the other's lips.

It's Alison who's the first to brush her fingertips against rough lace, gasping when she dares to press her fingers against Emily's sex through her underwear and feels how wet she is beneath. Emily's hips buck against her hand, a groan falling from her mouth and Alison wonders what sounds she can pull from Emily's throat  _without_ the barrier of her underwear in the way.

She shifts so that she can pull the panties away and slips her own off, too, along with her bra – Emily's dark eyes watch as she does, her tongue running along her bottom lip as Alison is made bare before her, and Alison makes a noise of surprise as she's suddenly flipped onto her back, Emily pressing her down against the mattress.

"You are so, so perfect." Emily braces her weight on one arm and lets the hand of her other slide down Alison's body, fingertips dragging from the blonde's collarbone and down until it reaches her hip, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "I never… I never thought we'd have this." The admission is breathed against the side of Alison's neck, and the blonde turns her head to press a kiss to Emily's cheek. "I never thought I'd have you."

"But you do," she reminds her gently, the fingers of her left hand running across the arm that's pressing against her hip, feeling the taut muscle beneath. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Emily lifts her head and presses a single, brief kiss against her lips before pulling her head away, eyes on Alison's face, and the blonde's about to ask what she's doing when she feels Emily's hand move, trailing across her hip before dipping between her legs, and her mouth opens in a silent moan as she feels two fingers run through her sex, tortuously slowly, and her hips arch off the bed, into Emily's hand, and suddenly she's not so sure she's going to survive this night because she already feels like she could combust at any moment and Emily's barely even touched her yet.

"Look at me," Emily encourages and Alison had barely even realised that her eyes had fallen closed – she opens them to meet Emily's gaze and is rewarded by a single finger pressing inside of her, and Emily matches Alison's moan with one of her own at the feeling, her eyes slipping closed once more and god, she's never felt like this before and she never wants to feel anything other than this ever again.

"Look at me," Emily repeats, her voice filled with reverence and Alison doesn't know if she can keep her eyes open but she tries, and when she does Emily moves, finger slipping out of her to press against her clit instead and Alison's hands, one at the back of Emily's neck and the other at the small of her back, grip her so hard that she'll be surprised if there aren't half-moon shaped bruises indented into Emily's skin come morning.

Emily's fingers circle lazily before she's sinking back into her, and Alison's hips move up to meet her – she braces one foot on the bed and hooks her other around Emily's hip, pressing her deeper and the brunette groans, dropping her head so that their foreheads touch, and Alison lifts her head to connect their lips as Emily starts to move inside her, so slowly that Alison doesn't know if she can stand it.

Emily shifts so that she's straddling one of Alison's thighs, the pressure of her own thigh against the back of her hand pushing her fingers – two of them now, curling inside of Alison in the most  _amazing_ way – deeper, and Alison can feel the wet heat of Emily's sex, slick against her skin and she lets out a low moan, the hand pressing at Emily's back moving, suddenly desperate to know what Emily feels like beneath her fingertips, wanting to feel Emily come undone around her as she falls apart around Emily.

Emily is hot and wet and wanting beneath the touch of her hand, her hips grinding against her as Alison's fingers rub against her clit and Alison swears that she could spend the rest of her life like this, learning every touch that makes Emily's breath catch or her hips jerk, and she wants to take her time but there's a fire building between her own thighs that grows with each thrust of Emily's fingers, and she thinks about how long they've both waited for this and thinks that there will be time to explore one another later, when there's less aching need and desperation (though Alison wonders if that will always be there, beneath the surface, because doesn't think there will ever be a time where she  _isn't_ desperate for Emily's touch).

Emily feels amazing around her fingers when she presses hesitantly inside of her – she has no idea what she's doing, not really, but what Emily's doing to her feels pretty fucking incredible so she thinks she probably can't go wrong. Their kisses turn sloppy and uncoordinated until they're doing little more than panting against each other's lips, and when Emily's thumb brushes against her clit with every thrust of her fingers, Alison swears she sees stars behind her eyelids.

Her breathing echoes loud in her ears as she feels her stomach tightening and she knows she's close, grits her teeth and tries to hold out for a little longer, wanting to bring Emily along with her – but the brunette curls her fingers and circles her clit at the same time and Alison cries out Emily's name as she comes, hard, clenching around Emily's fingers as she tries to draw her deeper, her heart hammering wildly in her chest as her mind goes blissfully blank, body flooded with pleasure for several long moments.

She's still coming down from the high when she realises that she'd frozen, and she forces her eyes open to watch Emily's face as she flutters her fingers, still pressed inside the brunette – she watches the way Emily's eyes squeeze shut and the way she bites at her lip when the palm of Alison's hand grazes against her clit, and it's not long before she feels Emily tighten around her, and she thinks she could watch Emily come on a loop for the rest of her life, wants the way she throws her head back, her face etched with her pleasure, branded on the back of her eyelids, wants the sound of her moans and the way Alison's name sounds, breathed like a prayer, to replay in her head for an eternity.

Emily kisses her, then, hot and hard and Alison groans, enjoying the way the brunette feels against her, their skin slick with sweat, and when Emily's fingers, still buried inside of her, curl with purpose, Alison wonders how many times they can make each other come before they're too exhausted to try for more.

She can't wait to find out the answer.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Waking up naked in Emily Fields’ arms is something that Alison had never dared dream she’d ever have, but the reality is so much better than anything her imagination could have ever conjured up. She still struggles to sleep some nights – either tossing and turning long into the night before it finally claims her, or waking up in the early hours of the morning, terror clutching at her heart from the nightmares that haunt her.

But that night she’d slept peacefully, with her back pressed against Emily’s front and the brunette’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist. They’d shared a bed a hundred times before but never like this, and Alison doesn’t think she’ll ever feel quite as content as she does in that moment, listening to the soft sound of Emily’s breathing.

She shifts in the brunette’s arms so that she’s facing her, admiring the way the glow from the weak sunlight filtering in through the drapes drawn across her window illuminates her face. She can’t resist reaching out a hand to trace across the side of Emily’s face and down her neck, brushing against soft skin and over the marks that Alison had left on her the previous night.

A smile graces her face as she remembers it, the two of them not falling asleep until they were both exhausted, unable to keep their eyes open for another second. Alison’s muscles ache pleasantly as she stretches, and Emily stirs beside her, lips quirking into a smile as she blinks her eyes open.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Alison murmurs softly, fingertips tracing the outline of the brunette’s hip.

“I’ve woken up in worse ways,” is Emily’s reply, her voice husky, and she hums in the back of her throat when Alison leans forward to brush their lips together gently.

“Yeah?” Emily’s eyes stay closed when their lips part, and Alison smiles as she props her head up on one elbow. “Cause you don’t look very awake.”

“Maybe you should do something about that.” It’s little more than a mumble, but Alison’s always liked a challenge – she lets out a quiet chuckle before she uses the hand on Emily’s hip to roll her onto her back, throwing a knee over the brunette’s waist so that she’s straddling her.

She doesn’t waste any time in ducking her head, dragging her tongue across a dusky nipple while her thumb circles the other, and Emily’s hips jerk beneath her, a strangled hiss leaving her mouth and Alison glances up to see dark eyes staring down at her and she smirks, mouth leaving Emily’s skin with a wet pop.

“Something like that?” She teases, her breath warm against Emily’s skin.

“God, yes.” Alison grins against Emily’s ribs as she presses a line of kisses down her side, tongue running across the bone in her hip, tracing the line her fingers had drawn earlier, and her hands press against Emily’s thighs, pushing her legs apart so that she can settle between them. “You don’t have to - ”

“I _want_ to,” she breathes, because last night Emily’s mouth had felt amazing against her, had made her feel things she’d never come close to feeling ever before but she’d been too boneless to return the favour but god, she wants to, she wants it more than she’s ever wanted anything before in her life. “I don’t have any idea what I’m doing, but I want to.”

“You can’t go wrong,” Emily replies, a slight strain in her voice as her hands curl in the bedsheets around her, and Alison glances up to see that her head is tilted back, her chest heaving, and when she dips her head to press an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of one of Emily’s thighs she shudders, a curse leaving her lips. “Trust me.”

Alison’s not so sure about that, but she’s surrounded by the scent of Emily’s arousal and she looks so hot and wet and _inviting_ , so she curls her hands around the brunette’s thighs to spread her legs and ducks her head, flattening her tongue and running it along the length of her sex, and Emily’s hips arch into her mouth, jerking when her tongue flicks against her clit.

“Fuck, Ali.” It’s little more than a whispered breath, the sound muffled by Emily’s thighs, pressing close to the side of her head, but Alison likes the way her name falls from Emily’s lips when she’s like this, the way it sounds like a prayer, like she’s lost in the ocean and Alison’s the only thing keeping her afloat.

It isn’t hard for her to find what Emily likes, carefully cataloguing each and every reaction whenever she does anything different – the way she shifts away the first time she uses her teeth, but arches against her when she presses her tongue inside of her or circles around her clit – and it isn’t long before Emily’s thighs begin to tremble against her, her breathing growing ragged as Alison’s name falls from her lips with increasing regularity.

She releases her hold on Emily’s hips to bring one of her hands down, slipping two curling fingers inside the brunette as she wraps her lips around her clit and sucks, gently – that’s all it takes for Emily to come, her back arching from the bed as she clenches around Alison’s fingers, thighs clamping around either side of Alison’s head, only releasing her when the aftershocks have faded, and Alison slinks her way back up the brunette’s body after swiping the back of her hand across her mouth, a slightly self-satisfied smirk on her lips and she _definitely_ wants to do that over and over again.

Emily’s hands wind through her hair to bring their lips together, tasting herself on Alison’s lips and the blonde groans, hips shifting against Emily’s thigh because Emily is really hotter than anyone ought to be when she’s coming undone around her, and Alison’s slick against Emily’s skin, and she groans in anticipation when she feels Emily’s hand sliding down the side of her body.

The brunette’s fingers are curling around her hip when they both hear a whine from outside of Alison’s bedroom door, and she lifts her head with another groan, this one frustrated, when she realises the time, because Pepe’s usually long been for his morning walk by now and the poor thing’s probably desperate for the bathroom.

“Don’t go,” Emily protests as Alison starts to push herself upright, but the blonde shakes her head even though she’s just as reluctant. “I see where your priorities lie,” Emily teases, watching as Alison tugs on a pair of underwear and slips into her robe.

“He can’t look after himself,” she shoots back over her shoulder as she’s pulling the door open, and Pepe wags his tail and butts his head against his legs before running down the hall, pausing to turn back to look at her at the top of the stairs, urging her to follow. “You can.”

“Barely!” Emily shouts back, and Alison smiles to herself as she hurries down the stairs and into the kitchen, opening the back door and pouring herself a glass of water while she waits for Pepe to come back inside. She jumps when she feels arms wrap around her waist, relaxing when Emily’s mouth presses against the side of her neck.

“You didn’t have to get up,” she murmurs, leaning back in the brunette’s arms and closing her eyes.

“I was hungry.” Alison laughs, shifting in Emily’s arms and smiling when she sees the brunette’s wearing some of Alison’s clothes instead of her own.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, and then yelps when Pepe comes bounding through the door, colliding with Emily’s legs as he greets her happily. “Toast?”

“Toast is boring.” Alison makes a face, shifting away from Emily’s arms to root through the cupboards. “How about pancakes?”

“Have I mentioned lately that I love you?”

“Mm, only a little.” She’s pulling the ingredients from the cupboard when Pepe whines at her again, and she sighs as she glances down at him, standing at her feet with an expectant look on his face as his tail wags behind him. “I’ll take you out later,” she tells him, but he only perks his ears up, tail wagging faster, and she shakes her head. “Later.”

“I can take him, if you want,” Emily pipes up from where she’s leaning against the counter. “It’s no trouble. And I’m not sure if you want to trust me in the kitchen while you’re cooking.”

“Well, that’s true.” Emily makes a face and she grins. “Okay, if you want. His leash is - ”

“On the back of the front door, I know.” She steps forward to press a brief kiss against Alison’s cheek before whistling Pepe over to her, and she wanders out into the hall with the dog bounding at her heels, and Alison smiles as she watches them go.

A life made up of this flashes before her eyes – waking up in one another’s arms, her cooking them breakfast (she doesn’t think that Emily will ever be able to be trusted to make anything other than toast, especially in the mornings), and Emily taking care of the dog (and maybe even the kids if they ever get to that), and her heart aches at the thought of it, at the thought of having so many things she thought for so long were beyond her.

When Emily returns they eat before falling back into bed with one another, and they waste the day learning one another’s bodies. Alison never wants the day to end – she feels like she’s running on stolen time, snatched moments, doesn’t know when they’ll be able to be like this again and she wants to stay like this forever, doesn’t want to face the reality of going back to school where Mona and the whispers of others follow her, where she’s forced to sit through classes she hates, where the threat of A always seems to linger. But she forgets about all of that when she’s with Emily, too busy losing herself in the other woman, and sometimes she feels like Emily’s the only good thing in her life and it’s a dangerous thought to have, because she doesn’t know what she’d do without her, not anymore, not now that she knows what it’s like to be with her, in every sense of the word, and she wonders if she’s too young to have met the love of her life because she’s sure that’s what Emily is, to her – she can’t imagine a life without her in it, can’t imagine herself ever wanting to be with someone else, and Emily Fields has held her heart since she was fourteen years old and Alison thinks that she always will.

It’s with regret that they leave the comfort of Alison’s bedroom later on that day, Alison aware that Jason will be back soon and her father not much longer after that, and they’re just curling up against one another on the couch when the front door opens and Jason strolls through with two pizza boxes balanced in his hands.

“Hungry?” He asks when he notices them, shrugging his bag over his head and letting it drop to the floor, and Pepe wanders over to greet him – he’s still a little wary around Jason, lingering from those first few weeks, able to sense Alison’s unease around her brother, but now that the two siblings are getting along better he and Pepe do, too.

“Depends what you brought.” Jason rolls his eyes, setting the two boxes down on the coffee table and lifting the lid.

“I got your favourite – well, it used to be your favourite.” He pauses, looking uncertain for a moment before he throws himself down onto the chair and takes a slice of the other pizza. “And I’m pretty sure Emily likes pepperoni, so I got that too.”

“Thank you.” She’s a little surprised, that Jason had remembered something so insignificant about her, and Emily, but it warms her heart all the same. “How was your weekend?”

“Probably as fun as yours was.” She makes a face as he waggles his eyebrows. “But as far as Dad’s concerned, we spent the both of it bonding.”

“Obviously.”

“Where does your Mom think you’ve been, Em? I’m guessing Dad told her that he was going out of town.”

“At Hanna’s, with the other girls.”

“And she bought that?”

“Probably not,” the brunette shrugs with a smile. “But she didn’t stop me from leaving.” It isn’t much longer before their Dad walks through the front door to find the three of them watching some stupid movie that Jason managed to find playing on the TV, polishing off the last few slices of pizza – as the door opens Emily straightens up, pressing herself into the arm of the couch and further away from Alison, and she realises that it’s the first time the two of them will have been in the same room together since she told her Dad they were together.

“Hey, Dad,” Alison and Jason chorus together, the both of them trying to look as innocent as possible, and their Dad pauses in the doorway and glances between them, eyes lingering on Emily for a long moment. “How was your trip?”

“It was okay. How was your weekend? I hope Emily hasn’t been here for all of it.”

“You think I’d let that happen?” Jason scoffs, and Alison’s thankful that growing up the two of them had become so good at lying. “She came over for dinner, that’s all. And you know, it’s kind of rude to talk about her like she’s not here.” Alison smirks at that, and Emily flushes, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else other than there.

“Sorry, Emily.” Her Dad looks contrite, framed in the doorway as his gaze returns to the couch where his daughter sits curled up against Emily’s side. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

“T-thank you, sir.” Alison scoffs, and Emily turns to glare at her and she turns it into a cough, instead, hiding her smile behind her hand.

“Emily, you’ve known me for years, you know you can call me Ken.” She nods, and their Dad disappears up the stairs and when he’s gone Emily lets out a long breath.

“You can relax now,” Alison murmurs teasingly, turning her head and wiping away Emily’s glare with a chaste kiss. “You know he doesn’t care about us, right?”

“I know, but he’s still your Dad, and I’m,” she glances over her shoulder before lowering her voice, “sleeping with his daughter, I’m not going to be his favourite person in the world.” Alison shakes her head, grinning, and presses another kiss to the brunette’s cheek before leaning forward to snatch her bottle of water from the table. “I should probably be thinking about heading back soon,” Emily murmurs then after glancing at her phone, and Alison pouts despite herself, because she still doesn’t want her perfect weekend to come to an end. “My mom’s wondering where I am.”

She lets Emily drag her to her feet and to the front door, and once they’re out of sight of Jason she wraps her arms around the brunette’s neck and stands on her tiptoes to press their lips together, content to take her time because she doesn’t know when they’ll have the chance to do this again.

Emily’s hands are warm when they land on her waist, and Alison remembers what those hands feel like on her bare skin, how they can so easily bring her to her knees and desire sparks through her veins, wanting nothing more than to drag Emily back upstairs and never let her leave.

The sound of someone clearing their throat has them springing hastily apart, and Alison turns to see her Dad coming back down the stairs. She turns back to Emily and laughs when she sees the mortified look on her girlfriend’s face, flushed red.

He doesn’t say a word as he steps past them and into the living room, but there’s a small smile on his face and she wonders if he finds Emily’s expression as amusing as she does – when she turns back to Emily the brunette dodges away from her kiss, instead pressing her lips to the blonde’s cheek before she slips out of the front door with a whispered goodbye.

Alison stands there for a long moment and watches her go, until her car is disappearing down the street, and when she turns she jumps, startled, when she sees her Dad standing in the doorway of the living room.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Alison,” he says after a long moment, before disappearing into the kitchen. Alison stands looking after him for a long moment before returning to the living room couch, warmth spreading through her chest as she curls up with Pepe at her side.

She's considering retiring to bed, exhausted from both the day and the night before (she'd slept peacefully, but it had still been the early hours of the morning when she and Emily had finally tired themselves out), when her phone buzzes.

She expects it to be Emily, telling her she's home safe – but when she sees the message from an anonymous number she swears that her heart stills in her chest, her blood turning to ice in her veins.

_I tried to warn her to stay away from you, but she didn't listen. Now she's going to have to pay... -A_

Alison feels panic bubbling in her chest, clawing up her throat and making it hard for her to breathe, and she's moving the next second, the only thought in her head that she has to get out of there, she has to get to Emily and make sure that she's safe, that nothing awful has happened to her because of Alison, and she's been so stupid and so naïve, to think that she could have this happiness, this one good thing, the _only_ good thing she's ever had in her life, without any consequences.

She's not a good person (she thinks that she's better, now, than she was, but she still doesn’t think of herself as _good_ , wonders if she ever will), and she doesn’t deserve this, this chance with someone so pure and selfless and _good_ , and now it's going to be snatched away, because all A has ever wanted is to take her happiness away and god, Emily is the source of it, always has been and maybe always will be, and Alison's been such an _idiot_ , should never have let herself get so carried away with the brunette because now she's put her in danger and she doesn't know if she can live with what something happening to Emily might do to her.

She's halfway through the front door when Jason catches up to her, hand closing around her upper arm and whirling her around, and she doesn’t know what expression is on her face but when his eyes meet hers they widen in shock, a frown crossing his face.

"Ali, what... what's _wrong_?" But she doesn’t know how to explain, he has no idea about any of this, about the shadowy figure that's haunted her for almost as long as she can remember (she knows it was Mona, back then, that whoever had taken over from her was far more wicked and _dangerous_ , but it still feels the same), and she doesn’t even know where to begin, so instead she yanks her arm from his grip and spins away. "Ali – wait!"

He hurries after her, leaving the front door open and when he catches up to her he stands in-front of her, hands on her shoulders, forcing her to a stop and she lets out a low noise of warning because she thinks that, maybe if she can focus on anger then she won't give in to the hysteria she can feel trying to take over, maybe then she won't break down and cry on their front lawn.

"Let me _go_ , Jason."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"I just need to go."

"Where?" She doesn't answer, but she thinks of Emily, of what might have happened to her and has to choke back a sob, and realisation dawns on his face, then, as he relaxes his hold on her. "To Emily's?" He asks and she manages a nod, clenching her jaw tight shut to keep the tears at bay. "Okay. Let me drive you." He shoots a glance over Alison's head and when she turns she sees their Dad, standing in the doorway, concern written all over his face but she doesn’t have _time_ to explain, waits impatiently as Jason hurries back inside to get his keys, muttering something to their Dad as he passes him. She forces herself to wait, knowing that she will be quicker in the car than she will on foot, and she thinks that maybe she should start learning to drive herself so that she doesn’t have to keep relying on others.

While she waits she tries Emily's phone, ringing her again and again, even when she's in the car and Jason's tearing down the street, but each time there is no answer and Alison can't stop the dread that overtakes her, seeping into every cell in her body, and by the time they reach Emily's driveway, Alison can barely breathe.

She's out of the car before Jason's even pulled completely to a stop, stumbling across the ground and almost falling – she catches herself on a tree, feels the rough bark cut into the skin on the palm of her hands but she barely even feels the pain, too busy rushing towards Emily's front door, her fist banging on the wood when she reaches it.

When it opens Pam Fields stands on the other side, looking mildly annoyed that someone is knocking at such a late hour – but then she sees the look on Alison's face and she pauses, mouth opening, but Alison cuts her off before she can speak.

"Where's Emily?" She demands, the words almost getting caught in the back of her throat, and she thinks that it's good, that Pam doesn’t look worried, because if something had happened then Alison's sure it would show on her face.

"She's not... She's not home yet." At the words Alison feels her throat close up, panic rising once again. "Alison is everything alright? What's wrong?" But she can't speak, can't form the words, and she thought that she knew fear – real, true, 'I'm-going-to-die-here' fear, on the day where Cyrus had stabbed her and left her to bleed to death in a dusty underground bunker, alone and afraid, but that is nothing compared to what she feels now, wondering if, somewhere nearby, Emily is in danger, and she can't do a thing to stop it.

"I... I - "

"Jason?" A confused voice asks from behind Alison, and at the sound of it she whirls around so fast that she would have fallen, if not for her brother reaching out and steadying her, and Emily's eyes take in the sight of Alison and her eyebrows knit together, confused. "Ali? What's going on?"

"You're okay," Alison breathes, too stunned to do anything else, and when Emily is close enough to touch she falls into her, arms wrapping around her neck and breathing her in as tears fall from her eyes, soaking into the material of the brunette's shirt. "You're okay." She repeats it over and over again as Emily's hands wrap around her waist and guide her gently inside the house and onto her couch, and once they're sat down she dis-entangles herself from Alison's grip and cups the side of her cheek, thumb wiping away the remnants of her tears.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" She asks, gently, and Alison glances over the top of the couch to see Emily's Mom and Jason hovering in the doorway, worry lining both of their faces and she supposes she should feel silly, for reacting like she did, but A's threat still lingers in the back of her mind, too real and too dangerous for her make light of.

"I thought... I thought something happened to you." Her voice is quiet, little more than a croak, and her hands find Emily's and clutch them tightly in her lap, as though she's afraid that if she's not touching her, Emily will slip away.

"Yeah, I kinda got that part." A tiny smile crosses the brunette's lips, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes – those are dark, filled with deep-rooted concern. "Why?" Instead of answering, Alison instead reaches into her pocket, handing Emily her phone – she takes one look at the text and lets out a long exhale, her expression turning unreadable. "Well, I guess it was going to happen sooner rather than later. But I'm okay, Ali. Nothing happened to me. I'm fine."

"That doesn't mean that we can ignore this," she insists, because she can’t remember a time where A hadn't made good on one of their threats. "That something won't happen in the future and I can't... I don't know if I can handle something happened to you because of me." Her voice cracks, and Emily's hand tightens around the side of her face, her expression fierce.

"Nothing's going to." She doesn’t sound certain, though, and Alison looks at her with disbelief. "And if it does? I don't care. I'm not going to be threatened into not being with you, Ali. I love you. And I'm not going anywhere." There's such conviction in the words, and they wrap around Alison like an embrace, but she doesn’t dare to allow herself to sink into their warmth.

"And what would you do," she says quietly, dropping her eyes from Emily's face to look at their clasped hands, instead, "if it were you that had gotten that text instead of me? If just by being together, you might be putting me in danger?" Emily's throat bobs as she swallows, but she doesn’t reply, and Alison thinks that her silence says more than words ever could. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"You _won't_ ," Emily insists, guiding Alison's face back up to hers, their eyes locking and Alison can see the fear in Emily's, the fear that Alison might want to walk away, that she'd rather have them apart and miserable than together and in danger. "Ali, don't... don't do this. We don’t _have_ to do this. We can be okay."

"For how long?"

"Forever." There's a stubborn determination in Emily's eyes that Alison wishes she could share. "Can we just... can we just remember how amazing this weekend was?" Alison sighs, because she can't remember a time when she'd felt so _alive_ but now her high has come crashing down, lying around her in shattered and broken pieces, like she thinks that maybe her heart will be, when she leaves this house. "I've never... I've never felt like this before. I've never been so in love before." It makes her chest ache, to hear Emily talk like this, but whereas once it would have made her heart soar now it is tinged with darkness, with the ghost of what she might not be able to have. "And we can get through this."

"I don't know if we can." The relief that had flooded through her, knowing that Emily was okay, has been replaced with a sense of dread, and she has to force the words out of her mouth.

"We can." There's a note of desperation in the brunette's voice that Alison can't stand to hear, and she has to blink back more tears, takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to get her emotions under control. "Look, why don't we... can we just see what happens? Can we just carry on like we have been and if... if A does do something, then we can talk about this. But I don't want to throw us away just because of a text, Ali. I've waited for you too long to be so reckless."

She thinks about it, for a long moment, worrying at her bottom lip. She thinks about how these last few weeks with Emily as her girlfriend have been the best few weeks of her life. She remembers how dark and bleak her life had seemed, the weeks before when Emily had barely even been able to look at her, and she wonders if she'd be able to withstand losing her, after knowing what it feels like to have her in her arms. After what no-doubt feels like an eternity to the both of them, she takes another deep breath before she replies.

"Okay." She watches the relief bloom across Emily's face as she releases a breath before leaning forward to press their lips together – but Alison leans away before they connect, her voice stern even though inside she feels like she's crumbling. "But if anything happens, if this isn't an empty threat..." She trails off, and Emily swallows hard before she nods, and Alison lets the brunette kiss her, then, and tries to bury her worry and her fears and her anxiety in the other woman, tries to lose herself in the sensation of Emily's lips moving against her own, warm and perfect and _loving_ , and wonders if she'll ever be allowed to be really, truly happy.

 


	20. Chapter Twenty

When she hears her phone ring for what must've been the fourth time in only ten minutes, Emily groans, swiping her thumb across the screen before lifting it to her ear with a heavy sigh. "What now, Mom?"

_"I just want to check that you got the right brand of potatoes - "_

"It's on the list, Mom," she sighs again, pausing in the aisle of the store and lifting her eyes to the sky, wondering why the hell she'd ever agreed to do this in the first place. "If it's on the list, I've got it. Just like I told you the last two times you called..." She wanders further down the aisle, glancing down at the list held in her hand  _just_ in-case – she doesn't think she'll survive if she messes anything up. "Why did you even invite the DiLaurentis' over if it's just making you crazy?"

 _"Because I thought it'd be nice for Alison to have a proper Thanksgiving meal for her first year back."_ Emily smiles at her Mom's words, despite her lingering irritation – out of her three girlfriends, Alison is definitely the one that her Mom likes the most.

"You know they never spent the holiday in town before though, right?" Alison had always gone to some relative or other, been dragged by her parents even though every year, the morning before she left she'd be sprawled out on Emily's bed, complaining that she didn't want to go.

_"Well, of course she didn't, Jessica couldn't cook to save her life."_

_"Mother_ ," Emily gasps, appalled. "You can't say stuff like that."

 _"Why? I never liked the woman. She was too... I don't know. And you can't tell me that she treated those kids of hers well."_ Emily bites her lip, thinking of how the woman had buried her own daughter in order to protect someone else, and has to agree. Still, though. She knows Alison misses her mother, in spite of it all, thinks that she will be now more than ever, with the holiday season fast approaching.  _"Are you sure you've got everything we need?"_

"Yes," she groans in frustration, "and I'm hanging up now. I'll be home soon." She hangs up before her Mom can ask her to pick up something else, and heads for the checkout, humming to herself as she stands in the line.

She's glad, that Alison is coming over later. Things had been a little... strained, between them, after what had happened the previous week, when A had texted the blonde for the first time in a long while.

Nothing had happened, though – Emily looked over her shoulder a little more than she used to, because she can remember all too well the panicked and distraught look on Alison's face that night, never wants to see her look like that again if she can help it.

There's a selfish reason for that, too, though – because she knows that, if A did so something to her, injure her in some way and made Alison believe that it was because the two of them were together, well, she knows that the blonde won't hesitate to walk away from her. She knows because Alison loves her, wholly and completely, and she knows that she would do anything to keep Emily safe, even if that meant them no longer being together. And the thought of that? Of knowing what it was like to hold Alison in her arms, to wake up next to her in the morning, to feel her soft skin beneath her fingertips, and to  _lose_ that? To her, now, it's incomprehensible.

So she's a little warier, of what's going on around her, but she hasn't seen anyone in a black hoodie disappearing from view if she caught a glimpse, hasn't had any menacing texts or messages; not a single thing has been different, since that night, except for the fact that Alison keeps in pretty much constant contact, and it'd be smothering, if it were anyone else, but Emily knows that she worries more for her safety than she does her own, and she also kind of likes it. Likes the fact that Alison's so interested in her, wants to know what she's up to, wants to involve herself in Emily's life in any way that she can and it's probably not healthy, the reliance on one another that they've fallen into, but Emily doesn't allow herself to dwell on it.

Not too much, anyway.

Once she's paid for her groceries she heads home, trying to predict the carnage the house will be in when she gets there – her Mom tends to go a little crazy, whenever they invite people over, too much of a perfectionist, and Emily had learnt long ago to stay out of her way (and  _definitely_ out of her kitchen), whenever they did.

She has to wade her way through several boxes of Christmas decorations as she opens the front door, and she feels excitement thrum through her chest at the thought of getting to put the rest of them up. Christmas has always been her favourite holiday, even before she started to associate it with her Dad coming home, and she was more excited than ever this year, because it was the first time in years that she'd be getting to share it with Alison, and the first time she'd ever get to spend it with the blonde by her side.

She remembers their last Christmas together in vivid detail, because after she was gone, the following year it had been all Emily had been able to think about, because she felt like there was a hole in her heart, something  _missing_ , and she'd spent Christmas Eve crying herself to sleep with the last gift that Alison had given her, that dammed snowglobe, clutched tightly in her hands.

But the year before that – that year had been magical. She'd spent Christmas Eve at the DiLaurentis' with the other girls, and when they had all gone to bed Alison had taken her hand and dragged her out of the room, up onto the roof of the house where they'd sat and watched snow fall from the sky, huddled close together to keep warm. Alison's lips had tasted like eggnog, when they kissed, the heat from the blonde's mouth chasing away the cold that had made Emily shiver, and when they'd snuck back inside hours later her cheeks had been flushed and her heart had been racing and it was the best gift that Alison could have ever given her.

Her mind turns to the thought of what she was going to buy Alison for a present this year, and she worries at her bottom lip as she wonders what she can possibly get her as she sets the groceries down quietly on the kitchen counter, sighing as her Mom rattles off her next list of instructions.

She spends the rest of the day cleaning, and by the time she's done she barely has time to jump in the shower before the doorbell's ringing and she hurries to answer it, grinning when she sees Alison on the other side, wrapped in a sweater to ward off the cold, her brother and father hovering behind her.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Emily murmurs as she steps aside to let them in, and Alison brushes a kiss against her cheek as she slips past her, Jason and her Dad in tow as they echo the sentiment back to her.

"We made cookies," Jason says as he passes her, a Tupperware box held in his hands, and at his words Alison scoffs, turning to shoot him a glare over her shoulder. "I helped a little!"

"Please, you just got in the way." He grins instead of answering, and Emily takes the box from him and motions for him and his Dad to make themselves at home in the living room while she drops it off in the kitchen. Alison follows her, arms winding around Emily's waist as she turns from the kitchen counter, and the brunette smiles softly and leans down to press their lips together gently. "I've missed you."

It had been a couple of days since they'd seen each other, longer still since they'd been alone and she wonders if it's been driving Alison has crazy as it has her – now that they've slept together Emily just can't seem to stop thinking about it, Alison haunting her every second of every day and it's  _distracting_ and on more than one occasion this last week she's found her mind wandering in classes, only snapping back to attention when the teacher had cleared their throat, noticing her lack of attention, and she's lost count of the number of times she's had to apologise, blushing profusely and praying that no-one around her could guess what was on her mind.

She and Alison were old news, now, to the student body of Rosewood High. The whispers still followed them, sometimes, but Emily barely even noticed them anymore, was too overjoyed by the fact that she could hold Alison's hand as she walked down the hall, kiss her before they went their separate ways for class, wrap an arm around her waist as they ate lunch.

It was just another thing she thought she'd never have.

"I've missed you, too." Alison's hands are warm at her hips, her mouth hot as she kisses Emily again, harder than before, her teeth nipping at the brunette's bottom lip before her tongue soothes away the sting and Emily fists a hand in the blonde's hair, wishes more than anything that they were alone in this house because it's been so  _difficult_ , to snatch time like this together with both of their parents seeming to always be there, hovering in the background.

Emily's car has definitely seen more action than ever before, because she can barely control herself whenever she and Alison are together, and Alison is the same – even worse, in some ways, her hands always wandering even when they're in public, never failing to drive her insane – but she still aches for the chance to take her time, to explore Alison's body like she had finally gotten the opportunity to that weekend (and god, what a weekend it had been – Emily knows she'll never forget it, had been the best night of her life and waking up wrapped in Alison's arms had been… everything she'd always dreamed).

When they pull apart they're both breathing heavily, and Emily is relieved when Alison takes a step back because if she stays close enough to touch Emily doesn't know if she'll be able to resist running her hands beneath the material of Alison's sweater, mapping out the smooth skin beneath.

"You girls okay?" Emily's Mom asks as she walks through the doorway, and Emily breathes a small sigh of relief that she hadn't come in a few moments earlier.

"Yes, thank you Mrs Fields." Her Mom's mouth opens and Alison quickly corrects herself. "Pam, sorry. I hope it's not too much trouble, having us over."

"Don't be silly, Alison, it's our pleasure."

"You weren't saying that three hours ago," Emily mutters under her breath, but her Mom hears her and turns her head, glaring. "What? You weren't."

"Why don't you go and see if our guests would like something to drink while I finish up in here," she suggests, and Emily takes Alison's hand and pulls her back into the living room, leaving her on the couch while she returns to the kitchen briefly to grab a couple of wine glasses and a soda for Jason. She curls up at Alison's side when she's done, slinging an arm around the blonde's shoulders and pulling her in close, and Alison smiles, snuggling into her side.

Emily never really thought she'd ever be good at making small-talk with Alison's Dad – he'd always made her nervous, even before he knew she was dating his daughter – but she's getting pretty good at it by now. If she were being honest with herself, Emily never really thought he'd be completely accepting of their relationship, but he'd surprised her, welcoming her with open arms and Emily's noticed that Alison's more at ease now, whenever she's at home and she's glad, had hated the way the blonde hadn't felt safe or wanted in her own house. Not that Emily can really blame her, with everything that had happened there, but she seems happier, now, than the brunette has ever seen her before – she's almost radiant, and to Emily it makes her impossibly more beautiful.

"I'm going to go see if your Mom needs any help," Alison murmurs into her ear after a little while, and Emily catches her lips before she rises to her feet.

"Suck up," she breathes against the blonde's mouth, and Alison's eyes narrow into a playful glare.

"And that's not what you're doing, when you pretend to be into baseball so you can talk to my Dad about it? How many hours did you spend googling the Phillies after the first time he mentioned it to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Emily tries to feign innocence. "I'm a huge baseball fan."

"Name  _one_  other team." Emily's mouth opens, but her memory fails her and the blonde grins, triumphant. "See, you're a suck up too." She darts away before Emily can protest, disappearing back into the kitchen and Emily curses when Alison's Dad brings up the dreaded sport, having apparently heard them talking about it; she wonders if she's being discrete as she hides her phone in her lap, internet open on the Phillies website – judging from Jason's grin, she thinks that maybe not.

She's relieved when Alison calls them into the other room, sliding into her usual seat at the table as Alison slips into the one beside her, and Jason whistles as he eyes the vast amount of food set out before them.

"Knew I should've worn stretchier pants," he murmurs as he pulls out the chair opposite Alison. "This looks amazing, Mrs Fields, thank you."

"Yes, thank you for having us, Pam," Alison's Dad chimes in, a rare, genuine smile on his face. "I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't invited us over, but it certainly wouldn't have been as delicious as this looks."

"It's really no trouble at all," her Mom replies, her cheeks reddening from the praise. "It's nice to have the extra company." Emily knows she gets lonely, sometimes, with her Dad away for so many months of the year. "Emily, do you want to start us off by saying thanks?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." She takes her Mom's hand in her left and Alison's in her right, squeezing the blonde's gently in her own. "I guess… I'm thankful for the past few months. Because they haven't been easy but I made it through and now…" She turns her head, meets Alison's gaze and smiles softly. "I have you. And I'm thankful for you every single day."

Alison's eyes shine and she squeezes Emily's hand tightly, and she can feel the gazes of their families on them and she doesn't think she's ever felt quite so grateful as she does in that moment, surrounded by so much love.

"I'm thankful for my daughter," her Mom speaks next, her voice quiet. "For her strength and her resilience. And I'm thankful that she's found love with someone as wonderful as you, Alison." She sees Alison blink away tears out of the corner of her eye and her own throat feels tight, remembering the way that, at first, her mother couldn't understand her or accept her.

"I'm thankful for my daughter, too," Alison's Dad takes over, his voice thick, his eyes fixed on Alison's face. "I never thought that we'd have another Thanksgiving together, and I wish… I wish your mother had gotten the chance to see what a wonderful young woman you've turned into." Alison's jaw clenches as she takes a shaky breath, and Emily runs her thumb over the back of the blonde's hand comfortingly.

"I'm thankful to have my sister back." Jason's lips quirk into a crooked smile as his eyes meet Alison's across the table. "I know I haven't always been a great brother to you, and I'm sorry for that – but I'm gonna do better, I promise."

"I'm thankful to be here." Alison's voice trembles when she finally speaks, after taking a deep breath. "I never thought… I never thought I'd ever make it back here, that I'd ever see any of you again." Her words are tinged with emotion and Emily watches a single tear run down her cheek and longs to wipe it away. "But most of all I'm thankful for you." Alison turns to face Emily, her eyes swirling with emotion, as deep as the sea. "That you always see the best in me. That you could forgive me, after everything. I don't think I knew what true happiness was until the day you told me that you loved me."

Emily's throat feels tight with the weight of Alison's gaze on her, and at her words she feels her own tears spring into her ears and wills them not to fall – instead she leans towards the blonde and presses her lips against her temple, breathing her in for one long second before pulling away.

They eat, then, and her Mom's cooking is as amazing as always, and Emily eats until she can't stuff in another mouthful, leaning back against her chair when she's done with a groan, clasping her hands over her stomach and wondering if she'll ever be able to move again.

She manages to make it back over to the couch, pulling Alison back into her arms and trying not to fall asleep as she listens to the sound of their parents talking and the low crackling of the fire in the grate, casting a warm glow around the room.

"Have you thought much about what colleges you're going to apply to, Emily?" The question from Alison's Dad is unexpected, and she feels the blonde stiffen in her arms in response, lifts her head to blink herself awake, shifting awkwardly under the attention of four sets of eyes.

It isn't something that she's thought about all that much, if she's being honest with herself. She had, back when she'd been trying to win scholarships, but after that had fizzled out she'd been so pre-occupied with A and then with Alison and just trying to  _make_ it through her senior year that the thought of what she wants to do after it rarely crosses her mind.

"Uhh… I don't really know," she shrugs, eventually. Her Mom has brought it up with her a few times, but not recently, and it's been a while since she'd dwelled on it. "I used to think I'd end up with a scholarship for swimming but now that that's not a possibility I… I don't know."

"Where were you trying to get scholarships for?"

"Um, Danby was one, and Stanford was a possibility, too." She feels Alison tense even more, before she pulls away slightly so that she can turn her head to meet Emily's gaze.

"As in California Stanford?"

"I haven't decided anything yet," she's quick to assure her, although she thinks of white, sandy beaches and sparkling seas, of being nearly three thousand miles away from here, this town that, although she loves it for bringing her to those she loves, Alison and the other girls, that she can't help but feel trapped in, longs to be able to drive past the town limits and never come back.

"Stanford's a good school," Alison's Dad replies, nodding in approval. "A little more exotic than Hollis."

"A lot further away, too," Alison murmurs, too quietly for the others to hear – Emily does, though, and her arms tighten around the blonde's shoulders as she ducks her head to press her mouth against her ear.

"When I was thinking about it, that was kind of the point. Get away from the madness." Alison breathes out a quiet sigh and Emily knows that she understands, knows that it had been a difficult decision, the one that she'd made when she'd decided to stay in Rosewood when she'd stepped off that bus from New York, but she still worries at her bottom lip, her eyes tumultuous with emotion as the conversation turns to a different topic, and after a while Emily shifts, rising to her feet and holding her hand out towards the blonde, pulling her up, too.

"Decorating?" Her Mom asks as she sees Emily move, soft smile on her face and Emily grins and nods – she always put up at least one, on Thanksgiving, no matter how many litter the house already, and she drags Alison along with her and out into the backyard where the nativity scene is already set out.

"Come here," she murmurs as soon as they're out of sight of their parents, pressing the blonde back against the brick wall of the house, her hands at her hips. "Nothing's final yet. Not even close."

"I know." Alison's breath fogs in the air between them, and Emily shivers as the cold begins to seep into her skin, glad for the heat of Alison's body, pressed so close against her own.

"And I could even, y'know, defer a year and wait for yo - "

"Don't you  _dare_ ," Alison warns, her eyes flashing as her hands wind around Emily's neck, sliding through her hair. "Don't you dare sacrifice your future for me."

"But you look so upset - "

"Because the thought of you being so far away kills me," the blonde replies honestly, her eyes dark and her voice thick with emotion. Emily swallows as she thinks of it, of Alison here while she's somewhere else and she knows that Alison will have the harder time of it, that Emily will have somewhere new to explore and classes and new friends to make but even so the thought shakes her. "But that doesn't mean I'd ask you to stay. Not in this place. And not for me. You'd resent it."

"And you wouldn't resent me for leaving?"

"Are you kidding?" A laugh bubbles from Alison's throat but it's bitter. "Leaving this town is the smartest thing any of us will ever do."

"And what do you think about California?" She asks, her nose skimming up the side of Alison's neck, voice at her ear, and Alison shudders beneath the touch, her head falling back against the wall behind her as her eyes flutter closed.

"I think you'd look amazing lying on a beach in a bikini."

"That's not what I meant." The scent of Alison's perfume on her skin is intoxicating and Emily presses closer to the blonde, trapping her fully between the wall at her back and Emily's front, and Alison groans as a thigh falls between her legs and the brunette's fingers slip beneath the hem of her sweater, dancing teasingly across the skin beneath.

"I know." Alison's breathing turns shallow beneath Emily's touch, and she groans when a mouth presses against the side of her neck, teeth grazing against her pulse point before Emily's tongue runs along the same spot and Alison's hands tighten in her hair, pulling hard. "I'd follow you to the end of the earth, Emily," she says then, her voice breathy, and Emily lifts her head to meet the blonde's gaze, wide blue eyes filled with adoration staring back at her. "You know that."

She kisses Alison, then. It's tinged with desperation, and Emily doesn't know if it's from the threat of A, still lingering over them – she remembers Alison's eyes on that night where Emily had been sure that she would have ended it, to keep her safe, if Emily hadn't been so insistent that they would be  _okay_  – or from the thought that, if they could make it through to the summer, states might separate them as they had once before, when Emily had cried every night over the girl she'd lost while Alison had struggled to survive in the cold.

She thinks of all the things that try to stand between them, that try to interfere in what is, to Emily, the best thing that's ever happened to her. She thinks of how impossible it had seemed, once upon a time, that she would ever get to hold Alison in her arms like she is now, and she wonders if that means that they have what it takes to be able to overcome whatever life throws at them next.

They stand there in her backyard, tangled together with their mouths moving over one another's' eagerly, for a long time, each of them clinging to the other tightly, as though they were afraid what might happen when they finally let go.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

"Are we even allowed to be in here?" Alison whispers despite the fact that they're very obviously alone, as Emily bends to fiddle with the padlock on the door in-front of them – she's picked it so many times over the years that she barely even has to think about it anymore, and she grins at Alison's nervousness as she hovers behind Emily's shoulder.

"It's fine, Ali, I used to do this all the time." The lock clicks and Emily tugs it away with a triumphant smile, straightening up and pulling the door open wide enough for both herself and Alison to slip inside. Within, the room is dark, and Emily closes her hand around Alison's wrist as she closes the door behind them, plunging them into complete darkness as she fumbles her hand along the wall for the light switch – when she finds it she flicks only one set on, and smiles again when the pool before them is illuminated in a hazy light, the water glinting invitingly.

"You used to break into the school  _all_ the time?"

"How else do you think I got so good?" She'd used to sneak in here whenever she got the chance or whenever she couldn't sleep, could spend hours swimming laps, getting herself out of her head for a little while, but it's been months since came here outside of practice. "Come on."

She makes her way over to the bleachers that line one wall of the room and tugs her shirt over her head, shivering as the cool air presses against the skin left bare by the bathing suit beneath it. She turns to see Alison eyeing her appreciatively, and she smirks as she hooks her fingers through the belt loops of her jeans and shoves them down her legs, kicking off her shoes and putting them both on one of the steps.

Alison takes a deliberate step towards her, one hand splaying across the bare skin of Emily's thigh and the other curling around her hip and Emily shivers, Alison's touch feeling like it burns. Emily's hands find Alison's face, cradling her cheek in the palm of her hand as she tilts the blonde's head up to press their lips together, and they both sigh at the feeling, Emily's hands weaving through blonde hair and holding Alison close, and she swears that no matter how many times she kisses Alison like this, it'll never be enough.

"I feel a little underdressed," Emily murmurs against the side of Alison's neck when their lips part, her mouth blazing a slow trail of kisses over the side of the blonde's jaw and down her throat, and when her teeth graze across the pale skin Alison's nails dig into Emily's hip in a way that has her breathing out a quiet groan against Alison's neck.

"Well, why don't you do something about that?" Alison teases, her voice a little breathier than normal, and Emily grins, only happy to comply, the hand that isn't buried in the blonde's hair finding the zip of her dress and tugging it down, allowing it to pool at their feet. Her fingertips explore the newly exposed skin eagerly, dragging across Alison's thigh and up, across the silky material of her bathing suit over her ribs, palming one of Alison's breasts as she bites gently at the pulse point that throbs in her neck. "I thought we were supposed to be swimming?"

"Are you complaining?" Emily murmurs, lips still pressed to Alison's skin as her thumb toys with the blonde's nipple through her bathing suit, smirking when Alison's breath hitches.

"Not at all." Alison winds one hand through Emily's hair and tugs her head away from her neck to kiss her again, open-mouthed and needy and Emily moans as Alison's tongue licks across the back of her teeth, the nails of her other hand digging into the brunette's ass and Emily kind of wants to forget all about swimming and instead shove the blonde down onto the bleachers, yank the thin material covering her skin down and press her mouth against every inch of her skin. "Is the water heated?" Alison murmurs against her mouth a moment later, and Emily realises that the blonde is shivering against her.

"Is this not keeping you warm enough?" She teases, pulling back slightly and grinning when Alison makes a face at her. "Come on." She takes Alison's hand and tugs her towards the water's edge, watching the blonde dip her toes in and wince when she feels the temperature. "You'll warm up," Emily says with a smile, before releasing Alison's hand and diving easily into the pool, letting a little sigh of happiness as the water surrounds her, letting her hands brush against the tile bottom of the pool before rising to the surface, finding Alison sitting on the edge, dangling her legs in the water and watching her with an affectionate smile on her face. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just imaging how hot you must've looked, kicking everyone's asses at swim meets." Emily manages a half-smile, but the blonde's words send an ache through her chest – even though she's still firmly involved in the sport with coaching, it's not the  _same_ , and she wonders if she'll ever stop missing it. "I'm sorry I never got to see it."

"Me too." There's a longing in both of their voices, and when Alison pushes herself off of the wall and into the water, Emily moves over to her, taking Alison's hands when the blonde reaches for and pulling her close. "Can I tell you something?"

"Mhm." Emily's hands curl around the edge of the pool, her body pressing close to Alison, pushing her back against the tiles as Alison's hands drape over her neck.

"I started swimming competitively after you went missing because it kept my mind off of you." Alison's eyes are dark as they look up at Emily, through her lashes, filled with the same remorse that never fails to sink into them whenever they speak of the time they'd spent apart. "But sometimes it didn't; sometimes I wish you'd been here with me. I used to dream, sometimes, about bringing you here."

"Yeah?" Alison's voice hitches slightly with emotion, and Emily nods, casting her mind back to when she was fifteen and felt so alone, swimming until her lungs burned and her arms ached, and still, when she raised her head from the water, she still saw Alison whenever she blinked, sitting on the edge of the pool with her legs crossed and an easy smile on her face, but whenever Emily had reached for her she'd slipped away, into thin air. "And what were we doing in these dreams of yours?"

Emily can't help the slight blush that colours her cheeks as some of the memories come back to haunt her – she'd awoken on more than one occasion with a racing heart and heavy breathing, haunted by the image of Alison in a bikini, skin slick with water as she'd tangled her hands in Emily's wet hair and drawn her close.

"Emily  _Fields_." Alison notices Emily's flush and feigns outrage, but there's a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. "Did you used to have inappropriate dreams about me often?" Alison's grinning, now, and Emily bites her lip as she decides whether or not she wants to answer that question.

"I… maybe," is what she settles on, and Alison's grin widens. "Not as many back then as I do now, though." She mutters that last part quietly, but from Alison's airy laugh Emily knows she's heard it. It's true, though – she'd expected that, after sleeping with Alison for the first time, her hormones would die down and leave her in peace but god, it's about a thousand times worse now than it had been before, and Emily's just glad that no-one can read her mind because her thoughts whenever she thinks about her girlfriend lately are  _definitely_ not PG-13.

"And does the reality live up to the expectation?"

"God,  _yes_." Alison laughs at her enthusiastic reply and Emily smothers it with a kiss, pressing a thigh between the blonde's legs and groaning when Alison grinds against her, and Emily's never been happier to have snuck out of her house for the night to come to the pool than she is right then, surrounded by the woman that has always been her world.

She'd been worried that her Mom would have been keeping an ear out for Emily sneaking out, now that she knew she was seeing Alison, but she'd been able to slip down the stairs and out of the front door with ease, and she was glad that Alison had been able to join her (she hadn't had many doubts, though – the blonde had told her once that she'd been thirteen the first time she'd slipped away for the night, and had done it a thousand times since), and she thinks of all the possibilities it brings for them to spend the night together as Alison's hands slide down to Emily's hips, pressing the brunette's thigh harder against her centre, the water rippling around them.

It's been days since she and Alison had been able to snatch a few moments alone, and Emily's hands are eager as they run down Alison's sides, one squeezing her ass and dragging her even closer and the fingers of the other teasing at a nipple, and the low groan that echoes into her mouth ignites a fire low in her stomach, desire flashing through her veins.

She makes a noise of surprise, muffled against Alison's lips, when the blonde twists suddenly, pressing Emily back against the wall of the pool and pinning her in place with her hands, strong at Emily's hips as her mouth trails over her neck, pressing biting kisses to Emily's overheated skin, and Emily tilts her head back and bites at her bottom lip to stifle the moans that threaten to tumble from her mouth as she surrenders to the feeling of Alison's tongue on her skin.

As her mouth trails lower, Alison's hands shift on Emily's hips, urging her upwards instead of holding her in place, and when understanding dawns she shifts, her own hands curling around the edge of the pool, pulling herself upwards so that she's sat on the edge when Alison leans back slightly to give her room to move.

Alison arches up towards her to connect their lips in another searing kiss before she's pulling away, eager hands pulling the material of Emily's swim suit aside before her mouth is hot on the brunette's bare skin. Alison bites at a mark she'd left the last time they were together (if Emily's learned anything since the two of them got together, it's that Alison likes to leave a lasting reminder of her lips being on Emily's skin, littering the brunette's body with red and purple marks that Emily likes to run her fingers over the next morning, remembering the echo of the heat of the blonde's mouth) before her tongue and teeth tease at one of her nipples.

Emily doesn't try and keep the breathy moan at bay this time, her back arching into Alison as she tangles a hand in the blonde's damp hair, tugging her closer as she lets her eyes flutter closed, and having sex in the high school swimming pool hadn't exactly been what she had in mind for the evening but she's  _definitely_ not complaining as Alison's hands move to her hips, yanking Emily forward so that her ass is right on the edge of the pool and she opens her eyes at the sudden movement, glances down to see Alison settling herself between Emily's thighs and she promptly shuts them again (it's a sight she doesn't think she'll ever get used to, she's sure – it's the hottest thing she's ever seen, by far).

Emily's hands release Alison's hair to instead wrap around the edge of the pool because she's pretty sure she's going to need it to keep herself grounded as Alison pulls her bathing suit aside and ducks her head, draping one of Emily's thighs over her shoulder as her tongue runs the length of Emily's sex, flicking against her clit in that way that never fails to make Emily's knees weak and her hips buck against the blonde's mouth, lifting from the edge of the pool and grinding against her, her knuckles flashing white where they grip the edge of the wet tile as shaky breaths escape her mouth.

It hadn't taken Alison much time to learn exactly what Emily needed to come like this, and it isn't long before Emily's thighs begin to shake on either side of the blonde's head. Alison responds by circling her tongue faster, shifting to press two curling fingers into Emily's body and the brunette clenches around them, Alison's name falling from her mouth like a prayer as she feels her orgasm wash through her, white hot pleasure sparking through her entire body as her thighs tighten around Alison's head, holding her close while her hips press against her mouth, her head tilting back as she rides out the waves.

She releases her hold on Alison when her head stops spinning, legs splashing limply back into the pool and she lets herself collapse backwards so that she's lying on her back staring up at the ceiling, Alison's quiet laughter ringing in her ears.

"You okay there, babe?"

"Just… give me a minute." Emily's amazed that she can even speak at all through her laboured breathing, and Alison chuckles softly before the sound dies away, nothing but the quiet rippling of the water left in its wake, and when Emily raises her head she sees Alison cutting gracefully through the water, swimming laps.

She shifts slightly so that she can watch her girlfriend, admiring the muscles that ripple across her back and shoulders as she moves, eyes straying to the curve of her ass and she bites her lip – Alison comes to a stop at the side of the pool directly opposite her an arches an eyebrow like she knows exactly what Emily had just been thinking, and the brunette smirks.

"Don't want me to return the favour?" She asks, teasing, as she pushes herself fully upright, feeling like she's  _probably_ regained control of her limbs by now.

"You'll have to catch me first," is Alison's airy reply before she's moving again, away from Emily with quick, sure strokes, and the brunette grins, delighted, as she slides into the water and chases after her.

x-x-x

"Sorry I'm late," Hanna murmurs as she slides into the seat opposite Emily at the Grille, throwing the brunette a grateful look as she takes a gulp of the diet soda that Emily had ordered while she was waiting. Emily takes in Hanna's mussed blonde hair and the flush on her cheeks as she shrugs out of her jacket and arches an eyebrow.

"Do I want to ask  _why_ you're late?"

"Probably not." Hanna smiles happily, no doubt thinking about Caleb and whatever they'd gotten up to earlier that afternoon (Emily also hadn't missed the dopey smile on  _his_ face as he'd walked Hanna to the door). "Unless  _you_  wanna talk about that massive hickey on your neck."

"It's not  _that_ bad," Emily defends, though she tugs nervously on the collar of the shirt she'd thrown on in an attempt to hide it from view – Hanna's quick to yank the shirt away from Emily's skin, though, eyeing the side of her neck with a critical eye until Emily shoves her hand away.

"Uh, yeah, it is. It's practically glowing." Emily flushes as she hides the mark again, thankful for the fact that her Mom had been out for most of the day and hadn't been able to guess what her daughter had gotten up to the previous night when she'd crept out of the house. She and Alison had been at the pool until the early hours of the morning, until weariness had made their movements sluggish and they'd slipped back home to sleep, and Emily felt a little bad that the blonde had to be up early the next day for work, while she could sleep as late as she wanted – Alison had breathed into her ear that it was worth it before she'd left the brunette's car, though, so that was something. "And I'm guessing I really don't wanna know what it is you're thinking about right now."

"Probably not," Emily echoes, ducking her head to look at the menu laid out in-front of her in order the hide the blush staining her cheeks, and Hanna snickers, delighted. Their waiter appears a moment later to save her, and she orders her usual burger before settling back in her seat, eyes taking in Hanna's face and the way she's almost glowing with happiness and can't help the soft smile that pulls at the corner of her lips.

"What?" Hanna asks warily, misinterpreting Emily's scrutiny. "Do I have something on my face already?"

"No," Emily replies with a quiet laugh. "I just… You look happy."

"Because I am." Hanna's eyes drop to her wrist, to the bracelet that Emily had noticed had appeared there a couple of weeks ago but had never asked about. "And so do you." She glances up, meeting Emily's gaze, and even though there's a smile on her mouth there's a harder edge to her gaze. "Who'd have thought that just over a month ago we were trying to drown ourselves in booze?"

Emily looks away, remembering all too well the thoughts that had plagued her mind back then, thrown into whirlwind of emotion by Alison's return, thinking that if she just drank a little more than maybe it would all go away.

She can barely believe that such a short amount of time has passed since then, since her world had been edged in darkness – now it feels like it's almost bursting with light, feels like she'd only truly started living on the day that Alison had appeared at her door and asked Emily to be her girlfriend.

"At least there's no lasting damage," Emily murmurs quietly, desperate to change the subject because she doesn't like dwelling on the parts of her past where she'd felt so bleak, when there was a part of her that hadn't cared if she lived or died – it's only happened three times, when Alison had disappeared and when she'd come back, and when Maya had died, and Emily doesn't ever want it to feel that way again.

She remembers the look in Alison's eyes, on that day when she'd turned up at Emily's house, so frantic and so terrified, determined to end things if that would keep Emily safe and she shudders, wondering if she'd come close to number four.

"You okay?" Hanna's eyeing her curiously and Emily wonders what expression's on her face. She hadn't told the other girls about that day, hadn't wanted to worry them by telling them that A had made a threatening re-appearance after so long – and maybe that was a mistake, maybe she's being selfish, but things had been so  _good_ and so  _quiet_ lately that she wants to give them a little peace.

"Fine." She forces a smile, shaking off the feelings churning in her gut, because it's been a while, since she and Hanna had a proper catch-up – the blonde had been so busy with Caleb and Emily with Alison that they'd barely seen one another or the other girls outside of school. They'd used to have a weekly coffee at the Brew, but after what had happened with Zack they'd gotten out of the habit.

"Things with Ali still good?" Hanna waggles her eyebrows suggestively, and Emily rolls her eyes, not rising to the bait.

"They're amazing." Her smile is more genuine, this time, and she wonders if it lights up her face the same way Hanna's does whenever she talks about Caleb. "And shouldn't you know how they are, anyway? You guys went shopping together on Friday."

"That doesn't mean you came up, Em, god, don't be so vain." Emily just rolls her eyes again, and Hanna grins. "Okay, fine, we talked about you a lot. I've never seen her so… I don't know, carefree, I guess. You're good for her."

"So you had fun?" Emily knows that Alison had – she could hear the happiness in the blonde's voice when she'd called Emily when she'd gotten home, and it had made Emily's heart sing, that she and Hanna were finally starting to get on like they always should have.

"Yeah," Hanna shrugs, her eyes lighting up when she catches sight of the waiter over Emily's shoulder, carrying their food. "It was a little weird at first, not gonna lie but… no, it was fun. She's a much better shopping companion than  _you_ , anyway. Didn't complain once."

"Good," Emily shoots back with a grin, "then  _you_ can be the one who goes with her to find a dress for this winter charity ball her Dad's hosting."

"Oh, no, no, no,  _no_ ," Hanna argues, pausing before taking a bite of her own burger to look at Emily with pleading eyes. "She's a  _nightmare_ for stuff like that – you remember when she dragged us around the mall for what, five hours that one summer for one of Noel's parties? No way am I reliving that."

"You just said - "

" _You_ can go with her," Hanna interrupts around a mouthful of food. "And just like, feel her up in the changing rooms to persuade her to buy the first thing she sees."

"That's not - "

"It'll work," she interrupts again, with a wicked grin. "Caleb's used that on me a couple times."

"Did not need to know that, Han. Did not need to know that." Hanna just rolls her eyes and deftly changes the subject, and the rest of the evening flies by, and by the time they're leaving Emily feels more content than she has for a while, not realising how much she'd missed her friend the past couple of weeks.

"You want a ride?" Hanna asks when she notices Emily heading for the bike rack outside the Grille instead of her car, and the brunette shakes her head because it's a nice night, the sky clear even if the air is a little cold, and she'd decided to ride her instead of drive on a whim and enjoyed it more than she remembered. "Alright, well I'll see you tomorrow."

Hanna gives her a quick hug before crossing the street, and Emily clicks open the lock on her bike before shoving the helmet on her head, swinging herself into the saddle and setting off down the road.

She huddles down in her jacket as the wind whips at her face, peddling faster in an attempt to ward off the chill. She wonders absently if Alison will be back from work yet, if she could swing by the DiLaurentis' before heading home, but she remembers the blonde saying she might be going somewhere with Matt afterwards and turns left at the end of the street instead of towards Alison's house with a slightly wistful sigh.

It's kind of ridiculous, that she finds it hard to go without seeing the blonde for more than a day. She's aware of that, but it doesn't change the ache that settles in her chest whenever she knows Alison's far away instead of at her side. She thinks about their conversation on Thanksgiving, about Emily leaving for college and leaving Alison behind and she finds it a little harder to breathe, doesn't know how well she'll be able to cope with that kind of distance, if her heart will be able to take it, especially if she ends up at the opposite end of the country.

She shakes off those thoughts, though, because she tells herself there's no point worrying about them, not yet. She and Alison still have ten months to spend together before they go their separate ways, and Emily is determined to spend as much of that time with the blonde as she possibly can.

Her mind strays, not for the first time that day, back to the previous evening, to pressing Alison back against the wall of the pool and kissing her until she could scarcely breathe, let alone think, and she wonders if she can persuade the blonde back to the pool within the next week because the entire night had been a dream come true that she wouldn't mind reliving again and again.

She's so wrapped up in thoughts of her girlfriend that she barely even notices the traffic around her. There isn't much of it, at this time of night, and she's wearing bright enough clothing, the lights on her bike flashing and the reflective band on her helmet catching the reflection of the car headlights, to be too worried about not being seen.

She  _does_ notice when a car pulls up alongside her, though, much too close for her to be entirely comfortable and she turns the handles of her bike sharply towards the pavement in-case the driver hadn't noticed her, muttering a curse as it speeds away and turns down a side-street.

She's nearly home when she hears the rev of an engine, loud in her ears, and she turns her head towards the sound. She swears that it's the same car, sleek and black – and speeding straight towards her.

She swerves out of the way, on to the pavement but the bumper of the car still hits her, slamming into the back wheel of her bike and sending her spinning, and she barely even has time to blink before she's falling towards the pavement, her head cracking into the concrete with a loud smack, and then everything fades to black.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

"So," Matt asks as he pulls on the freeway heading back towards Rosewood, "what did you think?"

"He's nice," Alison replies as she fiddles with the dial on the radio, trying to find something to listen to that doesn't make her want to cringe. "And cute. You guys are good together."

"I know." Alison huffs out a quiet laugh at his certainty as she settles on a radio station, relaxing back in her chair and looking out of the window, watching the outside world fly past. Matt had spent the weekend in Philadelphia with his boyfriend, who was home from college for the weekend, and he'd asked Alison if she wanted to meet up with them for dinner and finally come face to face with the guy she'd heard so much about over the past few weeks.

It was nice, to get out of town for the night – even though things with her family are better now, sometimes she still feels a little suffocated within the four walls of her house (she wishes that, on the day A had attacked her at home that they would've done anything  _other_ than strangle her) – and it's nice to feel like she has actual, genuine friends instead of the fake friendships she'd tried to cling to desperately when she was younger, keeping people around her with secrets and threats, and she's grateful that she has someone outside of school, outside of her old life, to be able to share parts of herself with.

Matt is probably her first true friend, outside of the five girls, and she doesn't know how she would have gotten through those Emily-free weeks without him.

"Am I taking you straight home?" Matt asks as they drive past the 'welcome to Rosewood' sign, and Alison nods. She  _would_ like to spend a little time at Emily's first (she wouldn't mind repeating last night's little adventure, either – Emily had looked  _hot_ , towering above Alison with her hands curled around the edge of that pool, her knuckles flashing white when she came, and Alison thinks that that's a memory that's going to keep haunting her at inopportune times for a long time to come), but after her little freak-out the other week after A's text she's aware that she's been a little suffocating herself, and she figures a day apart won't do either of them any harm.

As the car turns towards Alison's street, the road in-front of them is illuminated by flashing lights, and Matt slows the car to a crawl as the little traffic around them slows in response to the ambulance parked on the opposite side of the road.

"Wonder what's gone on here," Matt murmurs, almost to himself, and Alison's about to shrug in reply when she sees a bike lying on the pavement beside the ambulance and she feels her breath catch in her throat because she  _knows_ that bike, she's seen it thrown against the side of her porch on the days where Emily hadn't felt like driving, and when she sees the stain of blood to the side of where the bike lies she swears that her heart stops beating, icy cold panic seizing a hold of her until she feels like she can barely breathe.

"Stop the car." Her voice is quiet, barely audible, and Matt turns his head to glance at her, frowning in confusion – they're nearly past the ambulance, now, and Alison twists in her seat, sees a flash of unmistakable brunette hair sitting in the back of it, and raises her voice until it's almost a screech. "Stop the car!"

Matt puts on the brakes, but Alison doesn't wait until he's pulled up on the curb – she launches herself out of the door as soon as it's reasonably safe to do so, tearing off down the street and leaving him bewildered in her wake.

She careens to a stop outside of the ambulance with her panic at a full-time high, and she wants to collapse when she sees that yes, it is Emily sitting in the back of it, holding an ice pack against the side of her head as a paramedic leans over her shoulder, tending to the large gash that marrs her skin, and the only relief that she can draw is that at least the brunette is sitting up by herself.

"Ali," Emily blinks in surprise as their eyes meet, and Alison is at her side in a second, one hand snatching the ice pack out of the brunette's hand as she examines the lump beneath, her other hand cradling the opposite side of Emily's face, assuring herself that she's okay.

"What happened?" Her voice is tight with fear as she rests one of her knees on the ledge where Emily is sitting, pressing the ice-pack carefully back down against the side of the brunette's head.

"I got hit by a car." Alison's eyes widen in horror and the brunette is quick to reassure her. "But I'm fine." She glances towards the paramedic, who's finished cleaning the wound on her shoulder and is preparing to tape a bandage over it. "Right?"

"Well, I wouldn't say fine," he replies as he presses the gauze to the brunette's skin and tapes down the edges. "You whacked your head hard enough to black out so you might have a concussion, and where you fell on your arm is gonna hurt like hell in the morning. But there's no broken bones."

"See?" Emily's eyes turn back to Alison, her gaze imploring. "Fine."

"You blacked out?" Alison asks, appalled as she thinks of Emily lying on the pavement, alone and vulnerable, and she feels sick. "For how long?"

"Um, I don't know." Emily scratches at the back of her head with the hand of her good arm. "A couple of minutes? However long it took a car to come along and notice my bike in the road."

"You mean whoever hit you didn't  _stop_?" Emily shakes her head and Alison's shock turns to outrage. "Did you notice anything about the car? Make, model? Number plate?"

"It was just an accident, Ali." There's a look in Emily's eyes though that Alison doesn't like, but she doesn't see a reason why the brunette would lie about something like that. "I'm not going to press charges."

"They could've killed you," she protests angrily, and she opens her mouth to say more but closes it when she feels someone come to a stop behind her, turns her head to see Matt hovering over her shoulder, his eyes widening when they land on Emily.

"Shit, Em, are you okay?"

"I've been better," Emily replies with a weak smile. "But there's no lasting damage."

"Miss Fields." A new voice interrupts them, a police officer that Alison had failed to notice before then making his way over to her, with Emily's Mom in tow, wringing her hands. "Are you sure you don't want to press charges?"

"I'm sure," Emily answers without hesitation, and when both Alison's and her Mom's mouths open to protest, she silences them by holding up a hand. "I'm tired and my arm hurts and I just want to go home."

"Well, if you change your mind," the officer says, not unkindly, "we have your statement and the statement from the man who found you and called the ambulance, and we'll keep them for up to a week."

"Okay." Alison can tell by the stubborn look on her girlfriend's face that Emily isn't going to change her mind anytime soon, and she can't for the life of her fathom  _why_  – she wants to find whoever did this and rip them apart, because what kind of person hits a teenager on a bike and then just drives away?

She gets her answer, though, a few minutes later, as the paramedic tells Emily's Mom to keep checking on her throughout the night, as Matt's slipping away, Alison invited back to the Fields' house until Emily's settled in for the night, when her phone buzzes in her pocket.

_I don't make idle threats – and next time she'll end up with more than just a scrape. Kisses, -A._

Alison's blood runs cold at the words, ice settling around her heart and of  _course_ , of course A is behind this – how did she not think of it sooner? Emily's eagerness to brush this off like it was little more than an unfortunate accident starts to make perfect sense – she knew whoever did this did it on purpose, must have guessed who was behind it, and didn't want Alison to figure it out because she was scared the blonde would do something drastic, after last time.

Like walk away from her, because the pain of leaving Emily might be unbearable but god, it was better than the pain of losing her for good.

She's quiet as Mrs Fields herds both Alison and Emily into the backseat of her car, and Alison stares out of the window as they make the short journey to Emily's house. She can feel the brunette's eyes on her but she can't stand to look at her, can't stand to see the bruise forming on the side of her head from where she'd smashed into the pavement, hard enough to leave a mark despite the helmet she'd had on and god, what if she'd ridden home without one? What if it had been her skull that had cracked against the concrete, instead? Her stomach roils at the thought, her nails digging into the palms of her hands, and when Emily reaches for her she jerks away, because this is her fault, this is all Alison's fault, and if she'd just been stronger on that day, if she'd walked away the second she'd inadvertently put Emily in danger, if she wasn't so  _selfish_ , then none of this would have ever happened.

She catches the look of panic in Emily's eyes as the brunette slips out of the car and heads into her house, and Alison follows her girlfriend up the stairs and perches on the end of her bed while the brunette's Mom fusses over her daughter, getting her settled into bed before she leaves the two of them alone, and it's only when the door shuts behind her that Alison manages to raise her eyes from her hands, clasped in her lap, and all she can see when she looks at Emily is the blood staining her clothes and she hastily looks away, pushing herself to her feet and over to the brunette's closest. She pulls a pair of pyjama pants and a tank top from it and turns, handing over the clothes and worrying at her bottom lip.

"You need a hand?"

"I'm good." Emily shrugs out of her shirt, wincing as she lifts her injured arm. Alison is transfixed by the bare skin that the movement reveals, her eyes tracing across every inch, and she wonders if this will be the last time that she gets to see Emily like this, for a while, and she feels tears sting at the back of her eyes and she blinks them away hastily, forcing her gaze away. "Don't."

Emily's voice is pained, the single word filled with so much anguish that Alison feels like her heart cracks, and when she turns back to the brunette she sees Emily dressed in the new clothes, her eyes fixed on the blonde's face, her gaze pleading.

"Don't do this."

"Do what?" Alison asks softly, but she knows she doesn't need to, knows that the look on her face says more than her words ever will, because she can't let something like this happen again, refuses to be responsible for something, anything, happening to Emily when she has the chance to stop it and she'd been so stupid and so naïve, to let herself believe that everything would be fine, that she could finally be happy without any consequences, because that's just not how life works.

At least not for her.

"Don't leave me." She remembers Emily saying those words once before, her words quiet and slurred on the night where Alison had found her so broken in the park, the night that had been a turning point for them and she wonders where they would be, if instead of helping Emily up to her room that night, she'd walked away instead.

She wonders if maybe that would have been better – easier – in the end. Maybe it would have been, but she doesn't think that she'd trade the last month for anything. And it's hard to believe that so little time has passed, that the two of them have barely been together for four weeks because it… it feels like so much longer, it feels like a lifetime, and maybe Alison had been right, when she'd thought that maybe love just wasn't for her, after all.

(She thinks that it would certainly hurt a lot less than this, if she were as incapable of it as she'd one allowed herself to believe).

"I can't go through this again." She stands in-front of Emily, a foot or so back from the bed, and she keeps her back straight and her jaw set because she thinks that if she doesn't, if she allows herself to crumble under the overwhelming pain that threatens to crush her with every breath she forces herself to take, then her knees will buckle and she'll fall to the floor. "I can't… I  _won't_ walk up to the back of another ambulance and wonder if this time I'm going to find you in a body bag."

She shudders at just the mere  _thought_ of it, and she knows that it's something she'd never survive. Emily had, somehow, and Alison can barely fathom how the brunette must have felt, on the night where they dug up a body in Alison's backyard – but Emily had always been stronger than her (the brunette would have never have believed it, back then, but it's so, so true because Alison knows that, if their positions had been reversed, she would have let Emily's death crush her until she was little more than an empty shell).

"You don't know that that's going to happen." Alison doesn't miss the flicker of fear in Emily's eyes – she knows her too well, can read her so well – and they both know that the words are empty because A has shown their intentions, now, and Alison doesn't want to see how far they will go to make good on their threats.

"It's not a risk I'm willing to take." The words stick at the back of her throat, her tongue feeling like lead, and she sees the defeat settle in Emily's eyes as she stares at the blonde, taking in her expression, sees the exact moment that Emily realises that she isn't going to be able to talk Alison out of it, not this time. "It's not… this doesn't have to be forever."

"We've been chasing A for three years, Alison," Emily replies bitterly, trying to hide the tears in her eyes with anger. "We only found Mona because she  _wanted_ us to, and this A? This one's worse, this one's Mona supercharged, and we don't have a hope in  _hell_ of finding them if they don't want to be found."

"Maybe we just haven't tried hard enough." Emily scoffs and looks away, and Alison's hands clench into fists, useless at her sides as she wishes she could take out her anger and frustration on the person that had put them in this mess in the first place. She's wanted to catch A for a long, long time, but the desire has never been as strong as it is then, in that moment, as she has to listen to Emily draw in a shuddering, shaky breath as she tries to keep her tears at bay, and she wants nothing more than to move to her side, to wrap her arms around the brunette and whisper that everything will be okay but she can't because they both know that it would be a lie. "I'm going to find them," Alison vows, her voice a lot stronger than she feels. "I'm going to find them, and then when I do… When I do, maybe you'll give me another chance."

Emily raises her head at that, and Alison catches her breath when she sees the raw anguish swimming in her eyes, more pain than she's ever seen there before, and she wonders if maybe in doing this she's throwing away whatever chance they might have had, because she knows that it had taken a lot, for Emily to trust her enough to be with her, and now here Alison is, breaking her heart even though she'd sworn that she'd never hurt her.

But she thinks again of the feelings that had churned through her when she'd seen the brunette's discarded bike, thinks of the blood staining her skin and she knows, with a certainty deep in her gut, that this, hurting them both like this, ending things like this, is better than losing Emily for good.

She thinks she can survive the pain of this, maybe, but she definitely couldn't survive never seeing her again.

"I'm going to go," Alison mutters when Emily just stares at her, not saying a word, because Alison knows that there's nothing else she can say to make this any better, that she's done enough damage already, but when she turns towards the door a warm hand catches her wrist, the touch feeling like it burns as Emily yanks the blonde back towards her. "Emily - "

Alison's words are cut off by a kiss, so hard and bruising that she feels it all the way down to her toes and she moans in spite of herself when Emily's teeth catch her bottom lip, biting down hard enough for her to let out a hiss of pain before her tongue soothes away the sting.

And it would be so easy for Alison to tangle her hands in the brunette's hair, kiss her back like the world was about to end (she thinks that, for the two of them, it may as well be), to push Emily back onto the bed and lose herself in the brunette, to litter her body with kisses, to settle between her legs and fuck her until they both forgot about this awful, awful night – but she  _can't_.

She can't because it would make it so much harder to walk away, so much harder to leave her, and she thinks that maybe that's exactly why Emily is doing this, that that's why Emily's hands grip Alison's waist so tightly that she'll probably have finger-shaped bruises there in the morning, and it's so, so difficult for her to wrench herself away but she manages it, seizing Emily's wrists and pulling them away from her skin before she pushes at the brunette's un-injured shoulder and scrambles backwards until her back hits the wall beside Emily's bedroom door.

"Don't," Alison says, her voice strained as she lifts trembling fingers to her lips, still tingling with the echo of Emily's kiss. "Don't make this harder than this already is."

"Ali, please." Emily's voice is edged with desperation, tears falling down her cheeks as she becomes unable to keep them at bay any longer. "This isn't… we can get through this. This doesn't have to be the end, we can - "

"We can't, Em.  _I_ can't."

"But I love you." Emily's voice cracks and Alison's eyes close, unable to look at the heartbroken look on the brunette's face for another second, and she shakes her head as though she can dispel the tears building behind her own eyes if she can only move her head fast enough.

"Sometimes love isn't enough." Her eyes open to take in the sight of her girlfriend (except she's not, not anymore, and it's that thought that makes the dam break, the tears starting to fall and a sob threatening to wrench from her chest), for one last time, before she turns on her heel and practically sprints from the room, her vision becoming blurred as her eyes cloud with tears, her cheeks wet, and she almost collides with Mrs Fields, who had been preparing to come up the stairs, a bottle of water held in one of her hands.

"Alison." She reaches out for the blonde as she's nearly past her, her voice filled with shock as she pulls Alison towards her, dropping the bottle of water as she tilts Alison's face upwards, producing a tissue from one of her pockets and trying to wipe away some of the moisture that's collected on the blonde's cheeks. "Alison, what's wrong?"

But Alison can only shake her head, because somewhere upstairs Pam Fields' daughter's heart is breaking (Alison's is breaking, too, the shards that it had split into on the day that she had left Rosewood never intending to return, the shards that had been carefully collected and put back together, aided by Emily's sure touch and gentle words, by her  _love_ , shattering into a million pieces all over again and this time Alison doesn't know if she'll ever be able to repair the damage – but this is all her fault, and Emily needs the comfort more than Alison does, Emily  _deserves_ it more than Alison does because if not for Alison this wouldn't be  _happening_ to her, she'd probably be happy with Paige or someone new, and Alison should have never come back, knew it would end badly for them both but had ignored all the signs because she'd thought that love would be enough to save them and god, how wrong she'd been), and she manages to wriggle her way out of Mrs Fields' grip and run out of the front door, into the cool air, leaving the bewildered woman behind, leaving Emily to explain what had happened because Alison doesn't know if she can bear to speak any of it aloud.

She doesn't go home. She can't, not yet – she can't walk through her front door looking like this, looking like a wreck, can't stand her brother or her dad asking questions that she doesn't want to answer – so instead she walks, letting the tears dry on her cheeks, the chill in the air seeping into her bones until she's shivering, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders in an attempt to keep warm.

She sticks to the main streets, illuminated by streetlights, not daring to wander into darkness, even though she gets curious (and some startled) glances from the few people that are still out and about at this time.

As she walks a plan starts to form in her mind – a stupid, impossible, plan, but a plan nevertheless, and Alison thinks that it maybe has a chance of working, that maybe she can find a way to discover who A is and get them put away, once and for all. She curses herself for not thinking of it earlier because really, wasn't it  _obvious_? But then she thinks of how much she doesn't  _want_ to do this, of how humiliating it will be to swallow her pride and ask the one person she trusts the least in this town for their help, and she knows that she would have never thought of this unless she was completely out of options.

But that's what she is, because she's alone (more alone than she's felt for a long, long time), and she thinks that maybe, if A is gone, then she can salvage her relationship with the only person that has ever truly mattered to her.

She'd made Emily a promise that she would put an end to this, once and for all, and she doesn't intend to break it.

So Alison pauses under a streetlight and pulls out the compact she keeps in her purse, wiping away the last remnant of her tears and covering the flush on her cheeks with a little bit of powder, taking a deep breath and trying to get herself together. There's no helping her bloodshot eyes, and it's still obvious that she's been crying, but she thinks that she looks like less of a mess than she had five minutes ago, and that's  _something_ , at least.

She starts off down the street before she can talk herself out of what she has planned, her steps sure and quick, even though her mind is anything but. She's never been inside the house but she knows where it is – once upon a time, she'd known where everyone in the school had lived (and half of the adults in town, too – it paid to know things, she'd learned that at a young age, and she knew more about the people of Rosewood than she'd ever needed, or  _wanted_ , to know), and she pauses on the curb, taking a few deep breaths and gathering the courage she needs to make her way down the drive and knock on the door.

Just a few hours ago, she would have laughed in the face of anyone who said that she would be hovering in the driveway of this house, about to ask for the occupants help. But so many things have changed and she's so sick and tired of feeling like her life is out of control, out of her own hands, and she thinks that it's time she finally grew a backbone and started to stand up for herself again, to take back the reins and take back control, and what better place to start than here, with the person that had started this entire thing in the first place?

She counts the steps she takes up to the front door (twelve), as she forces herself to take deep, controlled breaths, and she knocks three times on the wood before she can talk herself out of it, her head lifted defiantly and her spine set straight as the door in-front of her creaks open.

"What the hell are  _you_ doing here?" But Mona Vanderwaal doesn't look all that surprised, as she leans against the doorframe and folds her arms across her chest, one eyebrow quirked upwards as she takes in the sight of the blonde with thinly-veiled disdain.

"I want your help." Again, Mona doesn't look surprised, and Alison wonders if she's been waiting for this, waiting for Alison to come to her, out of other options, so that she can laugh in her face and slam the door and leave her out in the cold.

"And why on earth would I ever help  _you_?" The amount of venom Mona manages to inject into the single word is actually kind of impressive, and she glances away from Alison, examining the nails of her right hand critically, completely disinterested in Alison or, probably, what Mona thought she was going to say.

"Because," Alison starts, and something in her voice makes Mona glance up, curiosity sparking in her gaze for the first time, although it's quickly blinked away, casual indifference taking its place, "you're probably the smartest person in this town, and I think it drives you crazy that you haven't been able to figure out who A is yet." Alison isn't sure if that's true, and she knows she's taking a big risk – but she sees the slight twist that pulls at the corner of Mona's mouth, annoyance that Alison's figured her out, and has to fight a smirk. "And I think that if we worked together instead of trying to rip each other apart, then maybe we'll be able to put all the missing pieces together and solve the puzzle once and for all."

"And where are the other girls? Aren't they back to being your shadow, now?"

"I don't want them involved in this." She doesn't plan on telling them about this, any of it – she suspects that they won't want to hear it, anyway, will be busy comforting Emily, their warnings to the brunette that Alison was nothing but trouble come to fruition. "I don't want them in any more danger than the already are."

"And what about me?"

"Honestly?" Alison answers sweetly, just enough bite to her words to let Mona know that, even though she's here, she still hasn't forgotten their past and has no intentions of doing so, "I don't give a fuck what happens to you. But I don't think you care very much about that. I think you want to solve the mystery too badly. The only way you can truly worm your way back into Hanna's good books." She watches Mona's gaze flash, and knows she's onto something, knows that one of the reasons that Mona's so sullen towards Alison is because of the way she's managed to win the girls trust back within just a few weeks whereas Mona still feels like an outcast. "I know we've had our differences, over the years - " Mona's mouth twists again, a dark expression crossing her face, and Alison wonders when it was that making a deal with the devil had become her best option, "but I think we might make a good team."

Mona chews on her bottom lip for a long moment and Alison waits with baited breath for her reply – she doesn't get one, aside from Mona stepping back from the door and opening it a little wider, enough for Alison so slip through, and once the blonde's inside she jerks her head in the direction of the living room, indicating that Alison should follow her.

"I assume you have some kind of plan?"

Alison does, and for the first time since she'd screamed at Matt to stop the car, she smiles.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Emily spends Monday in bed.

She thinks that her Mom probably would have excused her from school anyway, considering the purple-blue bruise that had appeared on her temple overnight and the fact that she can't really move her right arm without a blazing pain that the painkillers her Mom had gotten from the pharmacy that morning were doing absolutely nothing to combat, but after Pam Fields had seen what a mess her daughter had been in when Alison had left, she'd immediately sentenced Emily to at least one day of bedrest, and the brunette had been only too happy to comply.

She's barely even moved, save to go to the bathroom. She'd hardly slept the previous night, spent most of it and the following day curled up on her good side, eyes wide open and staring at the wall opposite her bed as her mind overran with a hundred thousand images that she wanted to wipe from her memory – the feeling of Alison's kisses, the way her skin felt, silky smooth beneath Emily's fingertips, the look on her face when she came, back arching and toes curling as she breathed Emily's name and Alison DiLaurentis has haunted Emily a lot over her lifetime but she thinks that now, with the things they've shared over the last few weeks, that this is the worst it's ever been.

And it's not like she can even blame Alison, for doing this to her, because she knows that, somewhere not too far away, the blonde will be suffering just as much as Emily is. She wonders if it would have been easier, if Alison's eyes had turned cruel, if she'd told her that this had all just been a game, that she hadn't really changed at all and she'd never really loved her. At least then Emily would have known that there was no chance for them, but this? Knowing that they had it all, but that the person who has already taken so much from her has interfered yet again, and taken away the best thing in her life, too? She thinks that this is worse, in a way.

And there isn't a single thing she can do to change it. For so long she and the others have been haunted by A and they've never gotten close enough to catch them, always a ghost, hovering in the periphery, and Emily wonders if it will ever stop, if she will ever stop feeling like her life is spiralling out of control – she doesn't think that she will, not until A is gone, and she's despairing over the fact that that day might be a long time away.

Until that day comes, she and Alison can't be together, because she knows that there's nothing that Emily could say in order to change the blonde's mind, and she thinks that if their positions were reversed, if it were Alison whose life had been threatened instead of Emily, she thinks that she probably would have done the exact same thing because the thought of something happening to her, the thought of never seeing Alison again… it's unbearable but that doesn't make any of this any _easier_.

So she hides away in her room and she's thankful that her Mom leaves her be. She hadn't been able to stand telling her what had happened, had only been able to say that she didn't want to talk about it through the sobs that had wrecked her entire body the previous night until she'd cried herself out and collapsed, exhausted but unable to sleep, and her Mom had told her that she didn't have to, that she'd leave Emily to deal with this on her own, if that was what she wanted – as long as she didn't go back to drinking.

She'd agreed, because even though the thought of losing herself at the bottom of a bottle, of wiping Alison from her mind, even just for a little while, sounds appealing, she knows that it won't help her, not really. It'll just make everything worse, in the end, and she tells herself that she doesn't need to drink, doesn't need to bury the pain because she's strong enough to withstand it (or so she hopes – she doesn't know how she's going to deal with seeing Alison at school tomorrow, doesn't know if she'll be able to cope, and it's more than a little terrifying), gives herself just one day to completely break down before she'll put the pieces of herself back together and try to carry on like nothing had happened, like she wasn't torn up on the inside or like her heart wasn't broken, perhaps beyond repair.

One day, to lie in bed and feel sorry for herself, before she faces the outside world.

Her phones buzzes periodically throughout the day – first of all with the girls asking where she is, then if she's okay, and she can feel their worry increasing with every message she doesn't reply to but she can't bring herself to text them back, because it would be a lie if she said she was fine and she knows if she told them the truth they would be by her side in a second, and she doesn't know if she can face them like this.

The decision is taken from her hands, though, when she hears a key in the door downstairs, not long after school had finished but still an hour or so before her Mom should be home from work and Emily sighs, rubbing a hand over her face as though that will make her look like she hasn't spent half the night crying, like she hadn't slept a wink, and when her bedroom door is flung open a few moments later she can barely even summon the energy to raise her head, unsurprised as Hanna lets herself in, Aria and Spencer following behind her a little more uncertainly.

"Wow," Hanna says as she throws herself down on the edge of Emily's bed, eyeing the brunette critically, "you look like shit."

"Hanna," Spencer hisses from the doorway, catching the blonde's eye and throwing her a disapproving look. "What did I just tell you about sensitivity?"

"So not my style," Hanna replies easily, her expression turning sympathetic as her eyes meet Emily's, and when she next speaks her voice is quiet, caring. "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I'm feeling?" She mumbles back and, knowing that she's not going to get rid of them anytime soon she shifts, sitting up in the bed and pressing her back against the headboard, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "What are you guys even doing here?"

"We were worried about you," Aria offers, as she settles herself down on the bed beside Emily, the opposite side to Hanna. "You didn't reply to any of our messages. We wanted to check you were okay."

"She told you what happened." It's not a question, and Emily hopes that none of her friends say Alison's name because she doesn't know if she can stand to hear it.

"She told us some of it." Spencer is the last of the three girls to sit down, folding herself neatly on the bottom of Emily's bed so that she's facing Emily, her legs crossed in-front of her. "She told us enough."

"So we came armed with crappy movies and ice cream," Hanna adds, producing a tub of Emily's favourite flavour of Ben and Jerry's and setting it down on the brunette's nightstand.

"Look, guys," Emily starts, but she knows even as she says the words that any attempt to get them to leave are going to be useless, and she loves them for their concern, she _does_ , but she doesn't want it, isn't ready for it, not yet. "I appreciate you coming over here and I'm sorry for worrying you but I… I'd really rather be alone right now."

"Well, we're not leaving you here to mope, so suck it up."

"And what about her?" Emily forces herself to ask, because even though the thought of Alison makes her chest hurt, thinking of the blonde on her own without her friends is so much worse.

"She's at work," Spencer answers, and Emily is glad, not for the first time, that at least Alison has Matt. "And we thought you might need us more."

"It's not her fault," Emily replies, her voice barely more than a tortured whisper, and the last thing she wants from this is for the girls to drop Alison like they had when she'd first come back, because she remembers the light in Alison's eyes whenever they'd been together as a group, whenever she'd spoken about doing things with the girls, and the thought of her losing that because of Emily is… she thinks that they've both suffered enough, without the added loss, even though the thought of seeing Alison, of being around her even with the three other three around, makes her want to sob.

"We know." Hanna's voice is gentle, and her eyes are remorseful when they meet Emily's once again. "We're not here to say 'I told you so', Em. Ali - " Emily flinches at the mention of her name and Aria is quick to comfort her, wrapping an arm around Emily's shoulder and Emily leans into the touch as she blinks back the tears that fill her eyes and threaten to fall, "wasn't in a great way when she told us what happened. We know that none of this is her choice. And if I could get my hands on A right now…" Hanna trails off, takes a deep breath and Emily sees the anger that flashes through her, hot and dangerous, settling darkly across her face as her hands clench into fists. "You don't deserve this, either of you. You deserve to be happy."

Emily scoffs, because she doesn't think that true happiness even exists anymore, at least not for her. She remembers the carefree feeling in her chest yesterday when she'd been cycling home, her mind filled with thoughts of Alison, a stupid smile probably on her face, and she wonders if she'll ever feel like that again – and if she does, she wonders if she'll ever be able to shake off the lingering feeling that it won't last, because it seems like it never does.

"Is… is she okay?" She knows it's a stupid question because of course Alison isn't okay – she remembers the look in the blonde's eyes all too clearly, as she'd stared at Emily from across this very room, her back pressed tightly against the wall as she'd pressed a hand to her mouth, doesn't think she's ever seen so much pain and anguish written across someone's face, and she never wants to see it again (she thinks she will, though, every time their eyes meet over the next few weeks).

She remembers that kiss, desperate and needy, Emily's last-ditch attempt to get Alison to stay, and she almost wishes that she hadn't done it, that their last kiss was tinged with love and joy instead of bleak despair.

"She's… about the same as you are right now." Spencer chooses her words carefully, and Emily wonders if she's trying to hide how bad it is, aches at the thought of Alison having to put on a brave face and force herself into school that morning, because Emily doesn't know how she's going to manage it tomorrow.

"Will you… can you check on her for me? Make sure that she's okay?" She knows that Alison would kill her for asking, but Alison isn't here and Emily doesn't want her to feel alone, and Spencer at least has the excuse of being a next-door neighbour, and the brunette nods in response, and Emily feels a little (not much, but a little) better at the thought that at least Alison will have someone other than Matt, whether she wants it or not.

"Come on," Hanna says, then, changing the subject in that deft way she always manages to. "Let's watch a movie, eat some junk food."

"What've you brought me?" Emily asks, and despite her initial lack of enthusiasm at having the girls over she supposes that at the very least, they'll be enough of a distraction to get her out of her own head for a little while, and god knows after today she needs it.

"Well, we thought romance was probably a bad idea," Aria answers as she reaches into her bag and pulls out four different DVDs, and Emily manages a small smile when she sees the front covers that Aria spreads out in-front of them on the bed, "so we thought you'd appreciate some good old-fashioned horror and gore instead."

It's her favourite genre, despite Alison's distaste for it, and her heart surges with warmth as she realises that all four movies are ones she hasn't seen before but has mentioned wanting to, and she's filled with gratitude as she wonders what she'd done to deserve friends like these.

"Take your pick." Hanna's voice sounds a little uncertain, though, as she glances warily at the titles, and Emily's smile widens – Hanna says she _likes_ horror movies but she usually spends the entirety of them hiding behind a pillow or making faces at the gore. "But maybe not this one." Hanna grimaces at the front cover of one of the DVDs.

Emily chooses a different one, and Spencer pops it into the TV across the room and presses play. Hanna is quick to curl up at Emily's side so that she can hide her face in the brunette's shoulder whenever something she doesn't want to see comes on the screen, and Aria presses close on Emily's other side to leave enough room for Spencer to join them.

It's a tight squeeze, but they manage. It reminds Emily of the summer when Alison had gone missing, before Aria had moved to Iceland and their group had fallen apart, when they'd tried to comfort one another, and on many nights they'd all piled into one of the their beds and shared stories and memories involving Alison as a way to try and deal with their grief.

Hanna hands Emily the ice cream and Spencer lays out a few other snacks that she'd brought along with her on-top of the comforter they've got pulled over their legs in order to ward off the chill in the room.

Hanna jumps within the first ten minutes of the screen and is cringing into Emily's shoulder by the time the first murder's taking place, and Emily laughs as she wraps an arm around her back as she shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth with her other hand, feeling lighter than she has since Alison had left her house the previous night.

x-x-x

She doesn't feel much better by the time that Tuesday morning rolls around, and the only reason that Emily even manages to make it out of bed is because Hanna spent the night, the blonde not wanting to leave her alone with her thoughts, and she prods Emily awake as her alarm blares at seven a.m., muttering that she needs to shower before she even thinks about going to school.

The water stings the wound on her arm, the bandages taken off before she climbed in, but the heat of it helps clear her head, and she feels like maybe she'll be able to face the day as she pulls on some clean clothes and wraps a towel around her hair before returning to her bedroom.

She struggles to dry her hair with her injured arm, unable to lift it very far past her shoulder, and Hanna watches her for a little while before rolling her eyes and batting Emily's hands away to do it herself, and it means that they're a little later than usual, rushing down the stairs and to Hanna's car, Emily grabbing an apple to eat on the way, and Emily thinks that she prefers it like this, rushing, her mind occupied instead of allowing herself to dwell on the fact that it won't be long before she sees Alison again.

Aria and Spencer are waiting for them by Emily's locker but the blonde is nowhere in sight and Emily doesn't know whether she should be relieved or concerned about that, but the bell for first period rings before she can think too much about it, and she walks with Spencer to history class wondering if she's even going to hear a word of what their teacher says without her mind wandering.

She does pretty well, she thinks, all things considered. It's much easier to focus on what she's being taught than to let her mind drift to more painful thoughts, and she walks into fourth period telling herself that it's no different, that just because Alison will be in there, it doesn't change anything, that she'll be able to deal with it the same as she has her other classes – but as soon as Alison walks through the door she realises how stupidly naïve she'd been to think that she could just ignore her.

Because their eyes meet, just for one, brief second, but it's enough time for Emily to see that Alison's are bloodshot, bags under her eyes as if she hasn't slept for days, and her eyes darken with pain as she takes in the sight of Emily, sitting at her usual desk towards the back of her room before she turns her head, takes in a deep, shuddering breath, and sits down in a free seat on the front row.

Emily is frozen for a long moment, staring at the back of Alison's head, and she finds it hard to breathe, like there's a weight pressing on her chest. She can see that Alison's hands, on the desk in-front of her, are clenched into fists, and her body shakes a little with the deep breaths she's taking, and Emily didn't think that it would be this hard, to see her again, but god, it hurts, it hurts to know that, no matter how much she might want to, she can't go over there, she can't exchange small smiles and handwritten notes when the teacher isn't looking like they used to, she won't get any filthy texts that make her blush as Alison describes in _very_ extensive detail what she'd rather be doing to Emily instead of sitting next to her in class, and she might never have any of that again, might never have Alison again, and the pressure of it presses close suddenly, suffocating her, and it's only when Spencer's hand curls over the back of her own that she realises that she's clutching her pen so hard that it had snapped in her fist, ink spilling over her hand, and she wipes it hastily away with the tissue the other brunette hands her as their class starts.

Emily doesn't hear a word of it.

She _tries_ , but every few seconds she finds her eyes wandering, always, always straying to Alison at the front of the room and she aches to know what she's thinking, if this is as hard for her as it is for Emily, if all she wants to do is go to Emily and pull her from the room and to the nearest bathroom, kiss her until the nightmare of the past two days fades away.

When the bell rings she can't bring herself to move as she watches Alison leap from her seat, hastily packing away her things and making to bolt for the door – but the voice of their teacher stops her in her tracks, asking if she can have a word, and Emily sees the heavy sigh that Alison lets out before she drops her bag back onto her desk, defeated, and approaches the front of the room.

Whispers echo around them as the rest of the class packs away their things, and Emily realises belatedly that they're talking about her, her and Alison, no doubt noticing the distance between them when they'd been so inseparable lately, and she notices Spencer glaring at anyone who dares to look Emily's way, and all too soon they're alone, just the two of them along with Alison and Mrs Owens, and Emily still hasn't moved an inch.

"Em?" Spencer asks, gently, and Emily manages to tear her gaze away from Alison, who's facing her now, leaning over the teacher's shoulder a she goes over something with the blonde and god, had she always been so beautiful? "Are you coming?"

"I…" She glances back towards the front of the room, sees the tiny frown of disappointment on Alison's face as she nods at something that's being shown to her, and shakes her head, trying to clear it. "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay," Spencer murmurs quietly, leaning her hip against her desk as she waits for Emily to shove her things into her bag.

"You can re-do it this lunchtime, if you like." Emily's not _trying_ to overhear, but she catches the words nonetheless, glances up to see Alison's defeated sigh as she takes the piece of paper Mrs Owens is holding out towards her, and she wonders with a frown if the blonde had failed the pop quiz they'd had last week – they'd been studying together, but then Emily had shifted on the bed, her shirt riding up, and Alison's eyes had zeroed in on the patch of bare skin and they didn't do much studying after that – and wonders if it's her fault. "I'll just go and get something to eat, I'll be right back."

"Give me a minute," Emily finds herself saying to Spencer, as Mrs Owens slips from the room and Alison makes her way back over to her desk, determinedly not looking over towards where Emily and Spencer still stand.

"Em - " Spencer begins to protest, a frown on her face, but Emily shakes off the hand that she lays on Emily's shoulder, turning to her friend with pleading eyes. "God, fine, but just let it be known that I think this is really bad idea." She slips her bag on her shoulder and sighs. "I'll see you in the cafeteria."

Emily watches Alison stiffen when she hears the door open and then close, and for a few moments there is only the quiet sound of both of their breathing, Emily all of a sudden too terrified to move.

"You should have gone with Spencer," Alison says after a few moments of heavy silence. She doesn't turn around, her eyes fixed firmly on the paper in-front of her, and Emily wonders how the blonde had known that she was still there, if she was really that predictable.

"Why?"

"Because you're making this harder than it needs to be," comes the tired response, Alison's voice heavy with emotion. "Harder than I can stand."

"So, what," Emily starts, latching onto the easiest emotion for her to deal with in that moment – anger. "You want me to ignore you, pretend that you don't exist? Pretend that what we had was… nothing?" Her voice breaks and she sees Alison's jaw clench, can't stand not seeing what expression is on her face for another second and strides over to her in three quick steps, rounding on the front of her desk and laying her palms on the front of it, leaning over the top towards the blonde and trying to ignore how affected she is by the closeness of her, by the scent of her perfume. "Would that be _easier_ for you?"

"I don't know," is the honest reply, and Emily's never seen Alison look so completely and utterly drained, so _defeated_ , and it makes her heart ache. "But it can't be worse than this." She takes a deep breath, looking up for the first time, and when their eyes meet Emily swears that she could drown in Alison's, _wants_ to drown in them, wants to immerse herself in sea blue and never come up for air. "I don't know how to be alone in a room with you without…" She trails off, reaches up a hand almost hesitantly, her fingertips dancing over Emily's cheek, brushing tenderly over the fading bruise on the side of her head, and the feeling of Alison's touch has her breath catching in her throat, heart stuttering in her chest as her head spins, suddenly dizzy.

"Without?" She prompts, voice little more than a whisper, and Alison is so close that Emily can feel her breath on her lips, can see the longing in her eyes, can practically taste her lips on her tongue, and she wants nothing more than to close the distance between them but she thinks that maybe that would make things between them a thousand times harder to bear.

She thinks that Alison might take the decision out of Emily's hands as she seems to sway closer, and Emily's eyes begin to flutter closed, but they fly open when she hears the scraping of chair legs across the linoleum floor of the classroom, as Alison's hand drops from her cheek as she scrambles away, her breathing heavy, and Emily feels the loss of her touch like she's lost a limb.

"You should go." Alison's voice is almost cold, and Emily knows that it's because she's trying not to crack and break down but it still stings, and she leans away from Alison's desk slowly, wondering if she'll ever be able to look the blonde in the eye again without feeling so _empty_ inside. "And I don't… I think we should stay away from each other for a little while."

"If that's what you want," Emily finds herself replying, the words detached, almost robotic, and she swears that she sees a flash of concern, of sympathy, in Alison's eyes before it's blinked away.

"It is." Emily nods, finds herself blinking back tears as she turns her back to the blonde and makes her way over to where she'd left her bag before she heads towards the door. She half-expects a call to come, for Alison to stop her, to say that this is all a huge mistake, but no words come even as she curls her hand around the door handle and creaks it open, and when still nothing but silence reaches her ears she sighs and leaves the room, the door closing behind her with a click of finality.


	24. Chapter 24

“Ali?” Jason’s voice is uncertain, muffled by the wood of Alison’s bedroom door as he raps his knuckles against it. “Can I come in?” Alison jumps at the request, taking a moment to straighten herself out in the chair at her desk, trying to make it look like she hadn’t just been sitting and moping before she calls out a reply.

“Sure.” The door opens and Pepe comes bounding in before Jason can manage to step inside, immediately coming over to her and sitting at her feet, his head settling in her lap as he gazes up at her with kind brown eyes. “What’s up?” She asks as she reaches out a hand to scratch behind Pepe’s eyes, purposefully ignoring Jason as she feels his gaze sweep over her face, trying to get a read on her mood.

“I… was just checking you were okay.” She sighs again, even though she’s a little touched by his concern. He’d overheard her crying on Sunday night – she’d managed to keep her emotions at bay while she’d been at Mona’s, out of necessity and not wanting to show any kind of weakness (though when Mona had asked Alison why now, why she’d suddenly decided to work together, Alison had struggled to breathe, the words sticking at the back of throat until Mona had rolled her eyes, muttered ‘whatever’ and carried on like nothing had happened). But once she’d gotten home, once she was in the bed where she and Emily had kissed for the first time in years, that night so many weeks ago, the same bed where they’d slept together for the very first time, not very long ago at all, it had all come spilling out of her, sobs wracking through her entire body, so violently that more than once she’d thought that she was going to be sick from the force of it.

She’d been loud enough to wake Jason, and he’d creaked her door open uncertainly, hovered in her doorway for a moment before shuffling inside and awkwardly trying to comfort her in that way that older brothers who had no idea what to do with their crying little sisters did, and even though it hadn’t taken her very long to send him away, pretending that it was just a nightmare and that she was fine, she appreciated the effort.

Ever since he’s been eyeing her warily, and Alison knows it’s because she looks as shitty as she feels – she’s tried to cover up the evidence of her sleepless nights but any efforts she make seem to be in vain, and there’s no hiding her bloodshot, tired eyes, and she knows that he’s just worried about her but him asking how she is ten times a day is really starting to grate on her nerves.

“I’m fine, Jason.” She lies as smoothly as she always has, even though she thinks that the state of her general appearance probably gives her away. “Just like I was the last three times you asked.”

“I keep asking because you don’t _look_ okay.” Usually he leaves with a muttered okay, never pushing further, but he’s obviously now had enough of her skirting around the subject, is leaning against her doorway with his arms folded across his chest, watching her carefully. “Is it… did something happen between you and Emily?”

She doesn’t expect the sound of Emily’s name, feels like she’s been sucker-punched when she hears it, and she’s too surprised by the visceral reaction to school her expression into something neutral, knows that she’s just confirmed Jason’s suspicion’s without saying a single word.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A hysterical laugh nearly bubbles to the surface, because even if she did want to she couldn’t, not to him. There are very few people who will understand her very unique situation, and three of them, she knows, would rather be there to comfort Emily instead of her, and that’s fine, she _wants_ that, wants Emily to be surrounded by her friends right now, doesn’t want her to feel the bleak, oppressive _loneliness_ that seems to haunt Alison wherever she goes.

She’s not _completely_ alone. She still has her family (but they don’t understand, don’t know the half of what she’s been through, of what she’s still going through), and she has Matt (but he doesn’t know the full story, either, has no idea why she and Emily broke up and she knows that he thinks she’s crazy, for letting Emily go, but he’s still trying to comfort her as best her can), and even though they will never be enough, not compared to what she’s lost, she thinks that maybe they can be enough for _now_.

The only other person that could begin to comprehend the mess that her life is right now is Mona, and Alison would rather rip out her own eyeballs than have a heart to heart with _her_ , so really, she’s out of options for talking about any of it.

“Not really,” she answers her brother eventually, and she sees the flash of disappointment that flashes through his eyes, knows that he’s only trying to help and hating that she can’t let him (she thinks that she could probably use the help, because she feels a little like she’s drowning and she has no idea how to keep herself afloat). “Thanks, though,” she adds, because she kind of wants to make that look in his eyes disappear. “For the offer.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair before he turns to leave. “Well, the offer’s always there.”

“Jason, wait,” she calls before he disappears through the door, because the more she thinks about it, the more she decides that Jason probably does know what she feels like, the twisting inner turmoil that threatens to overwhelm her, and it had been so bad for him that he’d buried his pain at the bottom of a bottle and Alison wonders, if she keeps on like this, if she’ll end up there, too. “Can I ask you something? About… about rehab?”

It’s something they haven’t really talked about since she’d gotten back. She’d known that Jason had had problems, before she’d left town, with drink and drugs and god knows what else, but she hadn’t known how bad it was until she’d found out that he’d done a couple of stints in rehab to try and break the habit. When she’d first come back to town she hadn’t cared enough to ask him about it, and with the tentative way they’d been tip-toeing around each other lately as they tried to pretend they’d always been normal siblings, there had never really been a good time to ask.

“Uh, sure.” He looks confused by the question, but not wary, and he takes a few steps inside her room before shrugging and plonking himself down on the edge of the bed. Alison thinks that he looks strangely out-of-place, on-top of her Eiffel tower bedspread, and she struggles to remember the last time he had been in here in the light of day. “Shoot.”

“When… when you hit rock bottom,” she starts, carefully averting her eyes and focusing her gaze on Pepe, instead, who’s still staring lovingly up at her, “how did you get through it? How did you survive it without something to get you through the day?”

“Honestly?” Jason asks, after a long moment of heavy silence, and when she chances a glance over at him she sees a haunted look in his eyes that she’s never seen there before. “For a while, I didn’t. Get through it without something, I mean. I was drunk or high or both for months before I realised I needed to get help or I was going to end up killing myself. And then when I did get help… I didn’t want it. Withdrawal was… I was a shell, for a long time. I didn’t live day-by-day, I lived minute-by-minute, just trying to get through another sixty seconds without my resolve cracking, without leaving that place and heading to the bar down the street and just forgetting about it all.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t,” he agrees, with a smile that’s more of a grimace. “I fought through it.”

“And it gets easier, right? The more time that passes?” She thinks of how her heart had still craved Emily Fields even after two years apart, even before the two of them had shared little more than a few kisses, and thinks she knows what Jason’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“If you want me to tell you that life is all sunshine and rainbows, Ali, then you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m still an alcoholic, and whenever I have a bad day I still want a drink, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change, so does it get easier? No.” Alison looks away from him, from the emotion that she sees on his face. “At least not for me,” he sighs, and when she turns her head and catches his eye she sees him regarding her seriously. “For you? I don’t know. One thing I do know is, though, that you don’t wanna end up like me. Don’t do stupid shit to try and numb the pain.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Then why are you asking me about this?” He asks, a knowing edge to his voice that she hates and okay, maybe she has thought about sneaking into her Dad’s liquor cabinet, about how maybe she could chase away the ache that leaving Emily had left in her chest with the sting of spirits sliding down her throat, the way that Emily had tried to forget about her, but that doesn’t mean that she was going to actually _do_ it. “Why now?”

“I was just curious,” she mumbles, refusing to look him in the eye.

“I’m not going to tell you that it gets better,” Jason says, then, as he pushes himself to his feet, and she’s so surprised when he comes over to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of her head that she’s frozen until he releases her. “But I do know that trying to bury it will just make things a hundred times worse.”

He leaves her, then, letting her mull over their conversation in peace, and it doesn’t take her very long to realise that finishing her math homework is a lost cause and she sighs, slamming the cover of her textbook closed so violently that Pepe, curled up on her feet, jumps in alarm.

“Sorry, buddy,” she murmurs as he looks up at her reproachfully, and she leans down to rub at his head in apology. “You want your food?” His ears prick up in interest at the words before he bounds over to the closed door, turning to glance at Alison over his shoulder when he reaches it, tail wagging furiously and she laughs, pushing herself to her feet and following him down to the kitchen.

The house is quiet, a note on the counter telling her that Jason had gone out for a little while but would be back in time for dinner, and her Dad wouldn’t be back from work for another hour. She jumps when there’s a knock on the door as she’s bending to put Pepe’s dish on the floor, startled, her heart beating fast in her chest as she glances towards where the noise had come from – the back door, rather than the front – and frowns when she sees Spencer standing outside, waving at Alison when she catches her eye.

“What do you want, Spencer?” Alison asks wearily as she opens the door, only a crack, only enough to stick her face in the gap with no intention of letting the brunette inside, even when Spencer shivers, not thinking to don a jacket when she’d left her own house to come over here. “Here to make good on that threat you made last time we were alone in my kitchen? What was it, ‘if I hurt her you’d kill me’?”

“It was ‘I’ll make you wish you really had been buried that night’, actually.” Spencer doesn’t look phased by Alison’s words or by the unwelcoming expression she’s sure is on her face. “But no, I’m not here for that. I came to see if you were okay.”

“Why?”

“Because she asked me to.” Alison flinches, just a little, and Spencer’s mouth twists in sympathy and Alison knows that she’d noticed. “Because she doesn’t want you to be alone.”

“But not because you’re actually concerned about me,” Alison fills in the blanks, a spark of anger settling in her chest as she her hand trembles where it holds the doorframe.

“I didn’t say that,” Spencer says with a roll of her eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ali. Contrary to what you might think, I do actually care about you. We all do.” Alison’s hand twitches on the door, because she notices that Hanna and Aria aren’t here with her. Alison had sought them out yesterday at lunch when she’d realised that Emily hadn’t come to school, had told them that the brunette would need them, and when they’d asked her why she’d spilled as much of the miserable story she could stand to tell – and not one of them had spoken to her since.

And it’s not like she blames them, not really. She hasn’t been a good friend – hasn’t even been a _friend_ , really, until recently – to any of them, and while they’ve taken huge strides forwards over the past couple of weeks, the longest she’s spent alone with any of the girls had been those few hours of shopping she’d done with Hanna this weekend (it makes her chest ache when she thinks about how she’ll probably never get the chance to do that again), and she knows that without Emily’s influence, the three of them would have been content to leave her alone after she came back, after she’d challenged their faith in her one too many times.

She wants them to be there for Emily, wants Emily to have that stability in her life even if it means that she can’t have it herself, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t _hurt_. Even though she’s never been good at showing it, she loves them, each and every single one of them, and the thought that she might be losing four people from her life instead of just one… it’s painful, more painful than she ever could have imagined.

Because she’s lost them all in the past, had barely been able to survive it, and that had been _before_. Before she knew what it was like to have real, true friends that were there because of _her_ and not because they wanted something from her, not because she’d engineered things that way. Before she’d known what real, true love was – before she’d known how incredibly amazing it was, to wake up in the arms of the love of her life.

She thought she knew what true heartbreak was, but god, she’d had no fucking idea.

“And besides,” Spencer continues, offering the blonde a small smile even as she stands, still shivering, outside in the cold, seemingly oblivious to the despairing thoughts churning around in Alison’s head. “We’re family.”

“We’re not family,” she answers automatically, shaking her head even though the promise of it makes her heart sing, because she’d always wanted a sister, always resented Jason for being a boy and older and distant, and she thinks that Spencer, despite their many differences, would have made a good sibling.

Alison hopes that Spencer can still be a good friend, too; hopes that she hasn’t ruined yet another important relationship in her life in one fell swoop.

“We share a brother,” Spencer points out, almost hopefully. “That’s gotta count for something, right?” She shudders violently one again in the icy air, and Alison sighs before she shakes her head and opens the door wider, allowing Spencer inside and closing the door behind them. She flicks the kettle on automatically and Spencer offers her a grateful smile as she rubs her hands together. “For what it’s worth,” she says quietly as she settles her arms on one side of the island in the centre of the kitchen, leaning over it, “I’m really sorry about what happened.”

“Why?” Alison asks, her throat closing up, making it hard for her to speak as she turns her back to Spencer in an attempt to hide the emotions she knows play across her face at just the mere thought of Emily Fields. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either.” There’s a gentle edge to Spencer’s voice, like she’s trying to comfort her, and Alison hates it even though there’s a part of her that wants to sink into it, wants to let out all the emotions she’s been trying to keep at bay ever since Emily had approached her in that damn classroom and shattered her heart all over again.

God, the _look_ in her eyes as she’s stared at Alison from across that desk, it had… she’d looked so broken, so completely and utterly _desolate_ and Alison knows that Emily would have seen that reflected back at her, wonders if they’d been stupid to get themselves involved in the first place because maybe it had always been destined to end in flames like this.

Alison thinks that look, just like the one that had been etched across Emily’s face when she’d left the brunette with a broken heart in her bedroom just two nights ago, will haunt her dreams for months to come.

“Isn’t it?” Alison manages to reply to Spencer after taking a moment to collect herself, trying to blink away the image of Emily’s face, taking a shuddering breath and trying to ground herself in the present, instead of the past.

“No,” Spencer replies with a certainty Alison is sure she can’t feel. “This is on A, just like every other shitty thing that’s happened to us over the past few months.” A bitter laugh escapes Alison’s lips at that, and when she finally turns to face the brunette she sees Spencer eyeing her warily.

“That’s the thing, though, isn’t it?” Alison’s words come quick and fast, the thoughts that she’s kept to herself for so long rattling out of her, too rapidly for her to stop them. “All of this wouldn’t be happening if not for me. A wouldn’t be _around_ if it weren’t for me, if I hadn’t been such a shitty person when I was younger, so you can stand there and you can tell me that it isn’t on me but don’t try to fool yourself, Spencer, because it’s all on me. Every shitty thing that’s happened to you – all of you – it all leads back to me. It’s all my fault.”

Her voice cracks and tears threaten to fall from her eyes yet again and really, it’s a wonder she has any left to fall, with the amount she’s cried over the past few days. Spencer looks taken aback, as she catches sight of Alison’s shimmering eyes, and Alison can’t really blame her. She doesn’t cry in-front of people if she can help it, rarely lets her walls down enough for anyone to see her so vulnerable, but she’s just so _tired_ of pretending that everything’s fine and that she’s not a ruin on the inside, and when Spencer’s arms wrap around her in a hug she stiffens for only a moment before relaxing into it, her face pressing into the side of the brunette’s neck as her hands fist in the material of her shirt, and it’s all too much for her, the tears slipping free from her eyes as she struggles to hold back a sob.

“It’s _not_ all your fault, Ali,” Spencer murmurs after a moment, her voice close to Alison’s ear as she rubs comforting circles across the blonde’s back. “You’re not the one who did all of those things. I mean, yeah, you were kind of a bitch when we were younger - ” Alison manages a quiet laugh at that, “but you were just a kid. It doesn’t mean you deserve any of this.”

“I did some messed up things, though,” she points out, her voice muffled by where her head rests on Spencer’s shoulder, little more than a croak as she tries to stop the tears that still fall from her eyes, and a mirage of faces flash before her eyes as she thinks of all the things she’d done to each and every one of them.

(Jenna’s the one she’ll always regret the most. Though less planned than any of the other things she’d done – words carefully calculated in order to cause the most damage, cruel and harmful rumours circulated, relationships broken apart with little more than a smile from her – what she’d done that night when she’d set that garage on fire will always be her biggest sin).

“Yeah, you did,” Spencer agrees, and Alison wonders if she’s thinking of Jenna, too. Spencer’s hands find Alison’s shoulders and push her back gently, so that their eyes can lock when she next speaks, trying to drive her sincerity into the blonde. “But not half as messed up as some of the things A’s done to us. You’re not like them, Ali, and you can’t blame yourself for what they’ve done.”

“What if it’s all karma, though?” She takes a step back and wipes at her tear-streaked cheeks with the back of her hand, hating herself for this moment of weakness. “I was so, so horrible to Emily back then… what if because of that, we can never be together?”

“Didn’t think you’d be one to believe in fate and destiny.” There’s a note of amusement in Spencer’s voice that makes Alison’s eyes narrow into a glare. “But if you want my honest opinion?” Alison nods, even though she’s not sure she’s ready to hear it. “If _I_ believed in fate and destiny? Then you and Emily are it, Ali. I’ve never seen her as happy with anyone else as I have these past few weeks with you, and I’ve never seen _you_ as happy _ever_. Just think of all the things you’ve already overcome – the girl thought you were dead for two years and _still_ never fell out of love with you, for Christ sake. This is just… it’s just another obstacle.”

“A big one,” Alison mutters, more to herself than anything, but a grim smile crosses Spencer’s face and she knows the brunette had heard her.

“Yeah, a big one, but… you’ve been through so much to get together. You really gonna just… give up without a fight?”

“I thought you wanted me to stay away from her.” She remembers Spencer’s eyes, that day, so long ago now, when she’d confronted Alison in this very room, and Alison wonders how they’d gone from that to _this_. “I thought you’d be… happy, I guess, that we’re not together anymore. That you were right about me.”

“Alison, if this has proved anything, it’s that I was _wrong_ about you. I admit, before I saw the two of you together, I… I doubted you. I didn’t think you were really in love with her, but now?” She shakes her head, and Alison’s smile is tinged with bitterness because she almost wishes that Spencer had been right, that she _wasn’t_ really in love because god, at least then it wouldn’t hurt like this, deep, soul-shattering, _aching_ pain that seems to sink down into her very bones and make her wonder if she’ll ever be truly happy again (she finds it hard to believe that, without Emily, she ever will). “Now I’m just sorry I doubted you. And how can I be _happy_ when two of my best friends are so heartbroken?”

Alison’s eyes snap up to meet Spencer’s at that, and the smile the brunette is throwing her way is tentative, and Alison almost wants to throw her arms around Spencer again – she manages a slightly watery smile instead.

“Do you want tea or coffee?” Alison asks, then, remembering belatedly that the click of the kettle boiling had echoed around the room quite a while ago – Spencer doesn’t comment of the abrupt change of subject, and Alison is grateful.

“Coffee, please. I need it if I’m going to finish my English assignment tonight.” She looks all of a sudden weary, and Alison flashes her a sympathetic smile, thinking of her own stack of homework, sitting on her desk upstairs.

“I know the feeling,” she murmurs in reply as she busies herself making their drinks, and when she turns back around to side one mug across the countertop to Spencer, she finds the brunette watching her carefully. “What?”

“I…” She trails off, biting on her bottom lip and taking a sip of coffee before she continues. “I couldn’t help but overhear in class today… about you having to re-take the test.” Alison stiffens, a little, even though she’s not surprised Spencer had heard that conversation, knows she had waited behind with Emily (had heard her trying to convince Emily that talking to Alison would be a bad idea), but that doesn’t mean that she wants to _talk_ about it. School had always been something that mattered to her – it had been her ticket out of town, and though she’d tried to keep her mind sharp whilst she was away it had been hard, she’s been finding the adjustment, going back to classes much more advanced than she was expecting, has been much more difficult than she had been expecting, but she doesn’t need anyone else to _know_ that.

“And?” Spencer looks wary, and Alison knows because there’s an extra bite to her words, tries to fight away the glare that threatens to settle over her features because she knows that Spencer isn’t trying to attack her.

“I just… if you need any help, I could tutor you, if you wanted.” Alison can only blink at the offer, completely taken aback, and Spencer mistakes her surprise as offense. “You can say no, I won’t be offended.”

“No, no, it’s… that would actually be amazing.” Alison would never ask for help, but now that’s been offered she finds it hard to turn it down, because she _is_ struggling more than she’ll ever admit, and Spencer had always been top of their classes and this can only be a good thing.

“Yeah?” She asks, still hesitant, and Alison’s smile is genuine as she nods at the brunette over the rim of her mug. “Okay,” Spencer confirms with a nod of her own. “Honestly, it’ll be good to just get out of the house for a little while.” She says that quietly, her eyes on her hands and not on Alison, and the blonde remembers the divorce her parents are going through, wonders how that must feel – is glad she wasn’t around to suffer through her own parents going their separate ways.

“I know the feeling,” she offers, because she knows the horrible feeling of wanting out of your own house, of it no longer feeling like a home, and she and Spencer have always had a lot of things in common but she thinks that now maybe they have more than ever. “And thank you. Not just for the tutoring but for… everything you said before.”

“You’re welcome,” Spencer replies with another smile. “I meant it. Every word.” Alison blinks, looking away from Spencer, unsure how to deal with the look in her eyes, the faith that she seems to have that Alison is a good person, and she wonders if she deserves any of it.

She’s about to ask Spencer when she wants to start tutoring when her phone rings, and she frowns as she reaches for her pocket, because it’s rare that anyone calls her other than Emily, and her frown deepens when she sees _unknown number_ flashes across the screen, swallows the fear and panic that threatens to creep up her throat as she throws Spencer an apologetic look before lifting the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” She’s relieved when her voice doesn’t shake, terrified of whose voice she’s going to hear on the other end of the line, and she breathes out quiet sigh of relief when she recognises it immediately.

 _“You said to call if I found anything_ ,” Mona’s voice echoes into her ear, and Alison catches her breath at her words, hope springing in her heart for the first time in days. _“Well, get your ass over here because I have.”_

“What?” Alison demands, and Mona sighs and Alison can practically _see_ her rolling her eyes.

 _“Like I’m going to tell you over the phone, do you know how easy it is to listen in on one of these calls?”_ Alison’s teeth grind in annoyance, both at the tone of Mona’s voice and at the idea of spending an extended period of time alone with her _again_ (she’d been kind of surprised when they’d managed it without killing each other, last time, and she wonders how long that can last).

“That why you’re hiding your number?”

 _“Nah, that was just to give you a little scare.”_ Alison rolls her eyes – and then catches sight of Spencer, looking at her curiously from across the counter, no doubt wondering who she’s talking to, and she swallows thickly, turning her back slightly as though she can hide her words along with her expression. _“Are you coming, or what?”_

“Fine, fine, just… give me ten minutes.”

_“You know it’d take you two if you had a car, right? You should really learn to drive.”_

“Good _bye_ ,” Alison hisses, not really in the mood to hear Mona’s commentary on her life, hanging up the phone before sliding it back into her pocket. Spencer is still watching her with a look that’s too calculating for Alison to be entirely comfortable, but she knows there’s no way that she’d guess who was on the other end of the line, and Alison has no intention of letting her find out.

She’d meant what she’d told Mona the other day – she didn’t want the other girls anywhere near this. It was much too dangerous, especially at this early stage of the game, where they were just putting out feelers, trying to find any lead they could, and Alison doesn’t intend to tell the girls about this until they have something concrete.

And she very much doubts that they have anything yet. She’d asked Mona if it were possible for her to hack into the street cameras where Emily had been hit, to get the numberplate of the car and track it back to the driver – Mona had looked at her like she was stupid, muttered that she could do that in her sleep and told Alison to get out, that she’d call her when she came up with something, and Alison had been waiting nervously ever since.

But now it looks like her waiting, at least for now, has come to an end, and she finishes her coffee in three gulps before letting her mug clatter down onto the countertop, anxiety at what Mona had discovered fluttering in her stomach, her heart beating a little faster in her chest and still, Spencer is watching her closely, and Alison schools her expression into something she hopes is neutral.

“I have something to take care of,” she says apologetically, and Spencer doesn’t look surprised, just hands Alison her own mug as she pushes herself off the countertop and wanders towards the backdoor. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Alison nods, hand closing around the door handle and pulling it open, but Spencer doesn’t move straight away, worries at her bottom lip as she seems to struggle to find the right words. “Alison…” Her voice is tinged with just enough concern for Alison to worry, for her to wonder if Spencer could have possibly guessed what her phonecall was about. “Whatever you’re doing, just… be careful, okay?”

Alison is too stunned to do anything but nod, and Spencer looks at her one last time before leaving, disappearing into the night. Alison stares after her for a long moment before grabbing her coat and heading out the front door and down the street towards Mona’s place, knowing that she’d thrown careful out of the window the day she’d decided to go after A instead of sitting back and letting them come for her, and she wonders if they day will come when she wishes that she’d heeded Spencer’s advice instead of ignoring it. 


	25. Chapter 25

It doesn’t get any easier, seeing Alison every day in school.

Emily keeps expecting it to, keeps expecting a time to come when seeing Alison walking down the hallways fails to make her feel like she’s been punched, like she can barely breathe, but so far it’s yet to come and she finds her eyes staring after the blonde long after she’s gone by. More than once, Hanna has had to nudge her to get her to tear her gaze away.

The class they share isn’t any better. She never seems to be able to concentrate, her eyes always wandering to Alison (Spencer had dragged her to the front of the room, one day, in an attempt to stop her, but Emily had just spent the whole hour tense, fighting the urge to turn her head to see if Alison’s eyes were on her, and the next day she and Spencer had been back in their usual seats on the back row), her mind always straying to those dangerous thoughts that are slightly easier to keep at bay when Alison wasn’t within her eyeline.

She tries not to think about her too much. It’s painful – a deep, visceral pain that is unlike anything Emily’s ever felt before. It’s different, than what she’d been through when Alison had gone missing and then again when they’d found her ‘body’ – deeper, more heart-wrenching, and she thinks it’s because she’s confronted with what she’s lost daily, instead of being haunted by only memories.

This is… less permanent. Because she sees Alison at least once every day (but usually much more than that – she seems to see Alison wherever she goes, finds her head turning whenever she sees a flash of blonde hair and it’s stupid and pathetic and _ridiculous_ but she doesn’t know how to _stop_ , doesn’t know how she’ll ever be able to let go), is confronted by what she could have had, by maybes and might have beens and she can hardly stand it.

She almost wishes that they could be friends, because it would be better than the clawing worry she feels, on those rare occasions their eyes meet and Emily sees the empty look in Alison’s. It would be torture, to spend so much time with her, but she thinks that maybe it would be worth it, to be around her again, because this… whatever they’re doing now, skirting around one another, never speaking and pretending the other doesn’t exist, it’s… it’s killing her, one day at a time.

But Alison had asked her to stay away, so she does. Because Emily can’t deny her a single thing, not even this, no matter how much it hurts. And it helps, knowing that, even if she spends most of the school day alone (Emily’s been told, even though she never asked, that Alison had returned to spending her lunch hours in the library), that the girls haven’t just forgotten about her. Hanna sticks with Emily, for the most part (she knows it’s because she’s worried about her, after seeing how bad she’d been before she and Alison had even gotten together in the first place, and it would be suffocating if it wasn’t such a nice distraction from her thoughts), but Spencer sometimes slips away to join Alison in the library and Emily knows that both she and Aria have spent some time with the blonde at her house, too, and she’s happy that Alison hasn’t lost the other girls as well as her.

She doesn’t ask how Alison’s doing, even though she burns to know, the question never far from her lips, but she doesn’t think that Alison will appreciate her curiosity, not after the pained look on her face when she’d told Emily to stay away, so she never does, and the other girls never offer her the information, either. She wonders, too, if Alison ever talks about her to them, but she never asks that, either. She doesn’t think she has much of a right to – not anymore, anyway.

She’s standing at her locker, shoving the books she’d needed that morning into it before heading for lunch, when Sydney finds her, a wide smile on her face. She’s come on leaps and bounds since Emily had taken the position as coach, and Emily expects a question about the swim meet they have that evening – it’s the first time she’s swimming competitively, and Emily knows that she’s nervous – and is surprised when their conversation takes a different turn.

“Hey!” She says as she pauses at Emily’s locker, leaning her shoulder against the one next to hers, her voice laced with excitement. “Have you heard the good news?” Emily just raises a questioning eyebrow, having no idea what she’s talking about. “Paige got a scholarship to Stanford.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Emily knew that there had been scouts at their last meet, but she’d had no idea where they were from, or that Paige had been on their radar, and she smiles, a flash of pride sparking through her, and suddenly the way Paige had been pushing herself harder than ever starts to make sense.

“Seriously,” Sydney confirms, practically beaming. “And we’re changing the party tonight to a congratulatory one for her, so you _have_ to come this time.” She hadn’t gone to the last one, had met Alison instead of celebrating with the team, and she’d declined the invitation to this one because she was definitely _not_ in the party mood.

“Uh, I’ll think about it,” she tells Sydney, who pouts but doesn’t argue. “Do you know where she is right now?” Sydney nods her head to a classroom down the hall, and it’s not too difficult for Emily to recall Paige’s schedule, remembering she’d used to have Spanish class in a room down this hallway and nods her thanks to the other swimmer, slamming her locker closed before hitching her bag over her shoulder and wandering down the hall.

A quick glance inside the classroom shows that Paige is still talking to her teacher, so Emily settles back against the wall to wait. When the door opens and the teacher strides past her, she steps inside the doorway, a soft smile crossing her face as Paige’s eyes meet her own.

“Stanford, huh?” She asks, watching the way Paige’s face lights up in a grin. “Well done, you. I knew you could do it.” Paige’s face falls a little, then, and Emily remembers a conversation, not too long ago, about decorating dorm rooms, and swallows around the lump that forms in her throat.

“Thanks.” Paige’s eyes never really meet hers, these days, and Emily knows that she’d hurt her when she left, and she wonders if the pain she feels in her gut whenever she thinks about Alison is anything like what Paige felt whenever she looks at her, and she hates herself a little bit more.

“So early in the year, too.”

“Well, they uh, they want me to start there in January.” Emily blinks in surprise, and Paige shrugs before she elaborates. “I have enough credits that I can graduate early, and… well, honestly, it’d be kinda good to get out of town.” 

The ‘to get away from _you_ ’ goes unspoken, but Emily can sense that it’s there, has known it for a while, in the way that Paige avoids her whenever physically possible, even managing to steer clear of her at swim practice, for the most part, and Emily doesn’t blame her, after everything, but she still… she’d lost a friend, the day she and Paige had gone their separate ways, and the thought of never seeing her again pulls at her heart more than she would have expected.

“Paige, I - ”

“Don’t,” she interrupts with a shake of her head, guessing what Emily’s going to say, and when she glances up her gaze is heavy. “You don’t need to apologize again, Em. You and me… we never would’ve worked out with Alison in the picture.” Emily flinches at the mention of her name, as she always does lately, and Paige throws her a sympathetic look. “Even if you’re not together right now, you’ll always be inevitable. Getting away from this place, from all the memories here… it’ll be good for me.”

“And Stanford’s a great school.” Her mind flashes back to the last time she’d heard those words, at Thanksgiving where everything in her life had seemed so much easier – she remembers the look of paralyzing fear in Alison’s eyes as she’d realised how far away it was, and blinks away the memory.

“It is,” Paige continues with a nod, and she throws a searching glance Emily’s way. “And who knows,” she continues with a sad smile. “Maybe one day you’ll join me.”

“Maybe,” Emily shrugs, lips quirking into a small smile of her own. “Haven’t decided yet.”

“You should,” Paige murmurs as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder and makes to leave the room. “Before spots at all the good schools go. No matter how much you love her, you can’t let her hold you back.”

It’s with those words that Paige leaves her, slipping past and disappearing down the hall before Emily can bring herself to reply. She mulls them over, as she turns and makes her way to meet the other girls in the cafeteria – the reason she’s been so lax about college applications is because with A hovering around every corner she wonders if she’ll ever be truly allowed to leave this godforsaken town, but then she thinks of Alison’s face at Thanksgiving, thinks about leaving her behind (not that that matters so much now, she thinks, bitterly) again, and can barely stand even the thought of it, because it hurts seeing her every single day and having to pretend she’s little more than a stranger, but not seeing her again, or going months without her? God, she doesn’t know how people do that, doesn’t know if _she’ll_ be able to do that, but staying here? She doesn’t think she can do that, either.

She asks the other girls about it at lunch, but they don’t have any answers for her. Graduation seems so impossibly far away, so hard to reach, and Emily barely even knows how any of them have made it through the past couple of years, let alone managed to get decent grades at the same time. Hanna’s still thinking about moving to New York to pursue a career in fashion, Spencer’s parents still want her to go to UPen but she thinks it’d be interesting to go somewhere abroad, and Aria knows she wants to do something art-related but not _where_ and by the end of their lunch hour Emily is almost regretting asking because they all seem to have _some_ idea of what they want to do, if not where, but Emily doesn’t even know that much.

She’d always been so sure that swimming would get her a free pass to the college of her choice, but now? Now her future is shrouded in uncertainty and she doesn’t know what to _do_ about it. Spencer sees the panic on her face as they’re going their separate ways for their afternoon classes and suggests that she should go to the school counsellor to talk about it, and she thinks that that would probably be a really good idea, nods her thanks before pushing the conversation from her mind, trying to concentrate on her last two classes before heading down to the pool to get the team ready for their meet.

She misses the adrenaline and the rush of competing, but coaching has allowed her to have a little of both, just in a different way. It’s a lot more nerve-wracking, watching from the sidelines, knowing that she can do nothing to intervene – and it’s a lot worse today, when they’re going up against their local rivals.

At their last competition against them, Rosewood had lost, _miserably_ , and Emily has no intentions of letting that happen again. They’ve been training harder than ever this last week (and her break-up with Alison is partially to blame for that – she’d arranged more training sessions, had pushed the girls for longer, because the thought of going home and being left alone with her thoughts had made her feel sick), and she knows that they’re ready, but she can still feel the swirl of butterflies in her stomach as her hand pushes the door to the locker room open.

It’ll be another couple of hours before the other school arrives, but there’s still a lot of setting up to do, and Emily busies herself with menial tasks while she tries to swallow her nerves. The time passes quicker than she expects, the bleachers around her starting to fill up with students who wanted to grab the best seats (she catches Hanna and Spencer’s eye, sat in the front row with Caleb and Toby in tow, and grins, shooting them a quick wave before ducking back inside the locker room to give the girls one last pep talk).

She stands at the side of the pool as the first race begins, cheering her team on along with the rest of the school, her nerves replaced with elation as they win the first, then the second race. She can barely watch the relay, Rosewood in third place as the last swimmer dives into the pool, but Paige is too good, maybe even better than Emily had been, at her best, and they win that, too.

They take home the trophy for best team, winning seven out of nine races as the crowd around them erupts in cheering, and Emily only narrowly avoids being dragged into the pool by her teammates as they leap back into the water to celebrate. She settles for hovering on the edge, an elated smile on her face, riding the high for all it’s worth because it’s not often she gets to feel this anymore.

She turns her head to see if Hanna, Spencer and the boys are still front and centre, but her eyes catch a glimpse of blonde hair and her breath catches as she recognises the sweater that Alison had been wearing earlier that day, watches her slip quietly out of the room and finds her feet moving without conscious thought, following after Alison like a moth drawn to a flame.

It’s quiet, in the hallway outside the pool, the noise of the crowd smothered as the door shuts behind her, and she sees Alison disappearing around a corner and hurries after her – she shouts her name, watches the blonde’s back stiffen and knows that she’d heard, but Alison doesn’t stop, just quickens her pace and she’s nearly at the front doors of the school before Emily catches up to her, wrapping a hand around Alison’s wrist and tugging her towards her, hurt that she’d practically tried to run away.

Alison’s skin feels like it’s burning beneath her fingertips, and she can feel the frantic beating of the blonde’s pulse in her wrist, jumping against Emily’s thumb like it’s trying to escape from her body, and Emily feels her own heart trying to do the same as her eyes meet Alison’s for the first time in what feels like forever.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, almost accusingly, because she’d thought that Alison was working tonight, like she was pretty much every other Friday night, and she knows that the blonde hadn’t been sat with the other girls, had watched her slink her way down the bleacher steps, all the way from the top row, and she can’t comprehend why she would be here on her own, when she’d told Emily to stay away.

“I…” Alison trails off as she searches for an answer, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, shakes her head before she lets it out as a bitter laugh. “I missed your first meet. And I missed the chance the chance to ever see you swim in one… I didn’t want to miss seeing you coaching one, too.”

Emily feels like she’s punched, as she lets the words wash over her – she remembers the guilt on Alison’s face when she’d told Emily that she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first competition, and Emily had smiled and wiped away Alison’s frown with a kiss, told her that there would be a dozen more and thought about the blonde running to her when they won, wrapping in her arms and sharing the victory with her, and now they’re here, looking at one another like they’re strangers, and Emily wonders if she’ll ever be able to look Alison in the eye again without feeling like her soul is shattering into pieces.

“You have no right to be here.” Her voice is wooden, and she’s unable to deal with the fact that Alison still cares so much, unable to deal with the fact that they aren’t strong enough to withstand whatever life throws at them like she’d hoped, and it’s so much easier for her to be angry with Alison for leaving her than it is to take it out on the shadowy entity that had put them in this position, that Emily fears they will never unmask.

“You were never supposed to know,” Alison replies, her voice a pained whisper, and her eyes are still closed and Emily knows she will see tears shimmering in them when they open.

“That doesn’t make it any _better_ ,” she practically snarls, her earlier joy at their victory just a distant memory, now, as her eyes take in the face of the one person she seems to never be able to escape (and god help her, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever want to). “You told me to stay away from you, and yet here you are. You’re everywhere I fucking turn, Alison, and I can’t… I can’t look at you without feeling like I’m breaking.”

“I’m sorry.” Alison sounds tortured, and when her eyes finally open Emily sees so much self-hatred swimming in them that she gasps, her hand tightening its grip on the blonde’s wrist. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I didn’t… I never should’ve let myself get involved with you.”

Emily’s thought a lot about that, recently – on whether or not things would have been better, if she and Alison had never started dating. If they’d never talked about those kisses they’d shared that night in Alison’s room, so, so long ago now, if they’d just continued like nothing have ever happened. She’s wondered what would have happened if she’d allowed her distrust of Alison to take over, if she’d never given her another chance.

She’s thought about all of that, and decided that, if she could do everything all over again, she wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, because no matter what she’s feeling now, those few weeks of happiness were _worth_ it. The only time she’d ever felt pure, true love, the only time she’d ever been really, truly happy, and even if she never gets to feel that again, she knows she’s lucky just to have tasted it, even if it was only for a little while.

“Don’t say that.” She finds her free hand moving, cupping the side of Alison’s face with fingers that tremble whenever she touches her skin. “Because I don’t regret a second of it, Ali, and I never will.”

“I love you.” It’s a ragged, whispered exhale and Emily’s heart aches at the sound of it, desperate and _hurting_ , and Alison had been so stoic and so strong on that night she’d left Emily but now the façade is crumbling and Emily sees every ounce of Alison’s suffering reflected in her eyes and she wishes more than anything that she could be enough to wipe it all away. “And I don’t know how to stop.”

She wants to tell Alison that she doesn’t have to, but she thinks it would be so much easier if they could, if it were that simple, if she could just shut down all of her emotions so that she could breathe a little easier, so that she didn’t feel like a part of her was dying every time their eyes met.

She wants to tell Alison that she wishes that she never stops, but that would be selfish, if they can never be together again. But she can’t help but think of the last two years, how even though Alison had been gone and Emily was sure that she wasn’t coming back, that she’s always _been_ there. She’d always been there, in her heart, gone but never forgotten, and Emily knows that Alison will always, always be there, no matter what she does to try and stop it.

“When I figure it out I’ll let you know,” is what she settles on saying, and Alison’s eyes flash with something dark, something Emily wishes she wasn’t feeling, and she’s hyper-aware of the fact that she’s still cradling Alison’s cheek, her fingertips still shaking and she can feel the blonde’s every exhale on the skin of her wrist and it makes her want to shatter.

“I’m sorry,” Alison says again, and Emily shakes her head because it’s not her fault, none of this is her fault, and it’s not _fair_ because all Emily’s ever wanted is this woman, thought she’d never have her, and she’d finally gotten the chance only for it to be snatched away, and it would be so much easier if they were apart because they weren’t working but god, they’d been _perfect_.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for.” She knows she shouldn’t, but Alison is so close that she can feel her breath ghosting across her lips, the closest she’s been for days, and she’s missed this, missed Alison, missed the feeling of her mouth moving against her own, and it’s so, so _easy_ for her to lean down and brush their lips together.

It’s barely a kiss, lasts less than a second, but she feels Alison stiffen against her and steels herself for rejection, for Alison to push at her shoulders before tuning and walking away. She’s _not_ prepared for the shuddering breath that Alison lets out against Emily’s mouth before a hand tangles in the brunette’s hair and brings their lips together in a harder, bruising kiss.

Emily feels her self-control shatter, her hand dropping from Alison’s wrist to grip at her hip, instead, turning them to press the blonde against the row of lockers at her back, sliding a thigh between her legs and groaning when Alison bucks against her and this is so wrong, this is going to hurt so much more than Alison walking away from her would in the morning but god, she doesn’t know how to stop, not when Alison is kissing her like the world will end if they do (and really, for them, it might as well be), her mouth hard and demanding as she parts Emily’s lips with her tongue and licks at the back of her teeth, Alison’s free hand lifting to palm at one of Emily’s breasts through the thin material of her shirt and Emily’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her fingers gripping Alison’s waist hard enough to bruise.

She tastes salt on her tongue and kisses Alison harder, as though she can take away her sadness with the press of her lips. She groans when teeth close around her bottom lip, nipping at the skin roughly before Alison’s tongue soothes the sting, and her hips grind against the thigh that’s tucked between her legs and Emily knows that they should stop, that they’re in the middle of a hallway in a plain sight, that half the damn school will be walking down any minute now but god, she doesn’t know how to, not when Alison’s moving against her so desperately, not when she’s making those _sounds_ that Emily loves, that send liquid heat straight down to her core.

Emily doesn’t think that they ever would have stopped, if not for the sound of a door clattering open somewhere behind them, the sound of a crowd of people surging out from the pool and into the school hallways echoing around them, and for a second Emily is tempted to grip Alison’s wrist and drag her into the nearest classroom, to press her against the wall and lose herself in Alison like she had done so many times before.

But then she catches sight of Alison’s tear-stained face, the agony she can see etched into her expression, and she knows that she can’t. They’ve already gone too far, tonight – Emily has a hard enough time trying to forget the heat of Alison’s mouth and the feeling of her skin beneath her fingertips as it is, without refreshing the memories like this, but she knows that if they’re alone together like this again, the same thing will happen.

Because they’re drawn together like a moth to a flame, the fire hot enough to burn (Emily is surprised that Alison’s fingerprints aren’t burnt into her skin, because when she touches her, the heat is smouldering), and she thinks that maybe one day it will destroy them.

She looks at Alison and she can see on the blonde’s face that she doesn’t have the strength to walk away, not this time. She’d used it all that horrible night, and Emily knows that if she asked, if she took Alison’s hand, then she would follow her without protest and it is so, so tempting. So tempting to drown in Alison like she’s the drug Emily needs to keep breathing, but she doesn’t think that they’d both survive it.

So she takes a deep breath before she leans forward, brushing her lips against Alison’s forehead in the ghost of a kiss, and when she opens her mouth to speak, the words are whispered against Alison’s skin.

“No matter what happens, I’ll never give up on us.”

It’s the closest thing to a reassurance she can offer, because she’s waited three years to be able to call Alison her girlfriend, and even if she has to wait until she’s thirty she’ll do it – because no matter how much it hurts, she will be in love with Alison DiLaurentis until the day she dies, and she’s clinging on to the hope that, though they can’t be together right now, it doesn’t mean that this is the end.

She feels Alison draw a ragged breath that’s little more than a sob, but she can’t bear to see it, can’t bear to see her cry anymore, so she takes one last second to breathe her in before she forces herself to turn and walk away, not allowing herself to look back because if she does, she knows her resolve will crumble into dust.

In the parking lot, people mill around, still buzzing from the victory, but it’s the farthest thing from Emily’s mind as she stumbles her way to her car. She drops the keys three times before she manages to unlock it, and her hands tremble as she pulls out of her parking space and begins to make her way home.

She gets halfway down the street before she has to pull over, unable to see through the haze of tears that cloud her eyes, and she doesn’t know how long she sits there, wiping away the tears with a sleeve of a jacket that’s tinged with the lingering scent of Alison’s perfume, her lips still tingling with the memory of Alison’s kiss.

 


	26. Chapter 26

Emily Fields is going to be the death of her.

It's not the first time she's thought those words, but she finds herself thinking them more than usual lately, because all she can think about is that damn _kiss_ in the hallway after the stupid swim meet that she should have never been weak enough to go to, Emily's mouth hot and hard against hers, the thigh between her legs pressing against her in _just_ the right way and she's not below admitting than when she'd gotten home that night and felt the slickness between her thighs, left by the feeling of having Emily against her once again, she'd gotten herself off to the thought of her.

(She wishes she could say that it was the first time, but that would be a lie. It's not even the second or the third or the fourth time and yeah, okay, maybe she has a problem (she definitely has a problem, she's _sleeping_ in one of Emily's shirts because it still smells like her, for Christs' sake), but that's not going to stop her).

Now she can't even look at Emily without being overcome with the urge to take her hand and drag her into the nearest classroom and kiss her until they both forgot about the horrible nightmare that their lives have become lately.

Her resolve had been so _good_ , and then Emily had kissed her and it had shattered beyond repair, and now her will is broken and she doesn't know how to _fix_ it, so she just has to avoid even looking Emily's way, her mind screaming at her that there's a reason (a very good reason), that she's keeping her distance, and she needs to stay the hell _away_.

But god, it's so much more difficult with the fresh memory of the way Emily tasted on her lips, with the lingering scent of her shampoo and perfume still clinging to the clothes she'd worn that day, and she'd hoped that the weekend apart would have _helped_ , at least a little, but then she catches Emily's eye as she walks to her first period, and she wonders if she's ever going to stop craving her, ever going to stop _aching_ for her, or if she'll feel this way until the day she dies.

Her search with Mona for answers has hit a roadblock, with the lead they'd found on the car being unsurprisingly disappointing – it had been a rental, and A had used a fake name, and thus far they'd been able to come up with little else.

Mona's next idea had been breaking into Radley, and the thought of _that_ makes Alison intensely uneasy. She's never actually stepped foot inside the place, but it's so inexplicably tied into everything (just like she is, she thinks bitterly), that she supposes the moment would have to come, sooner rather than later.

She doesn't know what Mona expects her to find, but she supposes that she'll be a fresh set of eyes. She also has no idea how Mona is planning to get her inside – the brunette had sniped that they already had someone who worked there in Aria, but Alison had snapped that she still didn't want the girls involved in this, so Mona had huffed out a sigh and muttered that she'd find another way in, then, and that Alison would have to leave it with her for a few days.

Alison doesn't really see what the big deal is, considering how often Mona had apparently snuck _out_ of the institution while she'd been a patient there (and that's another reason why she will never really trust Mona with this, not entirely – because A apparently stole the game from Mona while she was in there, and how the hell can she not _remember_ that? Sometimes she wonders if Mona's just playing her and she's being an idiot and this whole entire thing is just an elaborate trap, but… well, at least the other girls aren't involved in it, won't go down with her), but apparently sneaking _in_ is a whole different ballgame.

Whatever. Alison's content to let Mona do all the legwork, so long as she eventually gets some answers out of it. She's still intensely uneasy, whenever they're alone together (she knows Mona is, too, though she tries to hide it – but Alison can see the flicker of fear in her eyes whenever Alison moves too suddenly, the anxious way she chews on her lip or plays with her hair, and Alison thinks that at least they're uncomfortable together), but she knows that it's a necessary evil if they're ever going to get to the bottom of this. Mona is smart – insanely smart – and can do things that Alison and the other girls can't, like hacking into police feeds and an all manner of other illegal things and really, it's a wonder that the others haven't tried to utilise Mona's more… unique skills before.

She hopes that it'll lead somewhere, but so far it's gotten them nowhere, and she can feel her frustration growing with each day that goes by but she knows there's little she can do about it. A has been suspiciously silent, ever since that last text, so it's not even like they can try and draw them out that way, and Alison itches to do something, _anything,_ to try and get to the bottom of the whole miserable mystery but she _can't_ and it's killing her.

It's killing her because every day that passes is another day of her life that she doesn't get to spend with Emily. They've spent so many apart already that to continue adding to that total, now that she's back and they _can_ actually be together… it's maddening, and she _hates_ it. She remembers Emily's words, breathed against her skin with so much conviction, but she can't help but wonder, the more she thinks about it, how long Emily's faith with last, how much longer she can wait for Alison when she has spent so much of her life doing that already (Alison wonders how much longer she can _ask_ Emily to wait, because it isn't fair for her to, it's awfully selfish but that isn't going to stop her), how long before her faith will turn to resentment, how long before Emily will slip away from her forever.

She thinks about these things a lot when she's in school because she spends so much time alone with nothing but her thoughts for company. The library is once again her second home and, she supposes, if nothing else, these last couple of weeks have, at the very least, helped her grades out a _lot_ because she doesn't have anything to distract her from doing her homework and Spencer's tutoring is actually helping her out a whole lot.

That's the one bright spot of her days, lately. Spencer's a lot warmer to her, without trying to tip-toe around her feelings like her Dad and Jason do and it's… kind of a relief, to not have to pretend to be okay around someone but to not have them coddle her in response. Spencer keeps her distracted without being obvious about it, never mentions Emily's name and never asks Alison how she's doing, and she is extremely grateful for it, for _her_ , though whenever she opens her mouth to try and tell her that she never quite manages to find the words.

When the chair opposite her own scrapes across the floor in the library one lunchtime, Alison doesn't look up even as her lips quirk into a smile. Spencer joins her, at least twice a week, under the pretence of helping her study but Alison knows it's really so that she's not alone every day – but when she glances up from the book she's writing notes in and sees a different brunette settling into the seat, she blinks in surprise.

"Aria," she says as the brunette drops her bag on the table and pulls out a sandwich (after glancing around to see if the librarian is hovering – Alison and the others compare her to Madam Pince because she's always lurking, ready to yell at people for not following the rules). "Hey."

"Hey." Alison taps the end of her pen on the page that's open in-front of her, curious – she's seen Aria outside of school a couple of times since she and Emily had broken up, but it had always been pre-arranged and she'd never sought Alison out here before.

"Everything okay?" Alison's a little wary, noting the shrewd way in which Aria is studying her, feeling like she's on display or something, and she swallows nervously despite being sure that she hasn't done anything wrong.

"I don't know, Ali, is it?" Aria's voice isn't exactly accusatory, but it isn't friendly, either, and Alison's eyebrows knit into a confused frown.

"Look, no offence," she starts, doing on the defensive, hating the way she feels like she's being examined and having no idea _why_ , "but I have better things to do than play cryptic clues with you." Aria doesn't say anything for a long minute, just regards Alison as she takes another bite of her sandwich, and Alison rolls her eyes at the silence before casting them downwards, returning to making notes for her chemistry class.

"You've been meeting Mona in secret." Alison's head snaps back up at that, dropping the pen between her fingers in shock – it clatters to the paper, the sound seeming unnaturally loud, but Alison decides that it's probably just due to the ringing she can hear in her ears.

"I… _how_?" She knows it'd be useless (and detrimental – she swore she'd never lie to them again, and she'd meant it) to deny it, because it isn't a question, and there's an unwavering certainty in Aria's eyes as they meet Alison's across the table.

"She's dating my little brother, remember?" Alison didn't know that so she does _not_ remember – she barely even remembers Aria's little brother at all, doesn't think she's seen him since she got back. "He saw you leaving her house the other night."

"And he just rushed to tell you that I was up to no good." Alison's voice has a hard edge, her eyes glinting with anger, not liking the way Aria's looking at her, accusation definitely staring her in the face, now.

"Three weeks ago you were cursing Mona's name and now you're what, best friends? And you haven't mentioned your change of heart to any of us? It's a little bit suspicious, don't you think?"

"I didn't realise I had to clear every decision I make with the four of you," she replies, voice falsely sweet, and Aria's eyes narrow in response.

"You don't, but a heads up would've been nice. I thought you hated her."

"I do." Aria's frown deepens, puzzlement flashing across her features. "And I sure as hell don't trust her."

"Then why…"

"I'm working with her, okay?" Alison doesn't see the point in trying to hide it, knows it will come to bite in the ass if she does or if she lies, and she sees Aria's eyes widen in shock, before there's a glimmer of guilt, and Alison hates how easy it is for the girls to mistrust her, it _hurts_ but she knows that she can't blame them, after everything. "After what happened, with Emily…" It's still painful to say her name. "The only way we can be together is if A is out of the way, and Mona… Mona's my best chance of making that happen."

"You think you can take them down." There's excitement on Aria's face, now, and Alison sighs, because this had been exactly what she'd been afraid of – they'd all be so eager to help, and Alison couldn't bear it if something went wrong, because the fault would be entirely her own.

"I think if we can find out who they are then we _might_ be able to take them down," she corrects, and even just saying the words aloud, the possibility that she might be able to make them a reality… it's intoxicating.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I don't want you to get involved in this." She ignores the hurt she sees in Aria's expression, at being excluded from this, but it's for her own good, Alison knows. "How many times have you guys tried to find out who A is, how many times have you gotten close, only for it to backfire on you?" Aria doesn't answer, and Alison shakes her head. "The four of you have risked so much for me that it's time for me to return the favour. And I don't want any of you to get hurt because of me. Because of this. Not any more than you already have been."

"But we could help you, Ali." Aria's almost pleading, but Alison refuses to be won over by the earnest look in her eyes. "With six brains instead of two - "

"No," Alison interrupts, her voice stern. "No. A is dangerous, and going against them directly like I want to… it might be a suicide mission, and I'm not prepared to let anyone else take that fall with me."

"Emily will never forgive you if you do something stupid for her."

"It's not for her." As soon as she says it, she knows it's a lie. Because while having A gone would be a weight off her chest, a burden off her back, the sole reason she'd decided to take a stand against them for the first time instead of cowering in fear, waiting for the next text to strike terror into her heart, was because A had taken away her world, and she would do anything to get it back.

"Sure it's not," Aria murmurs like she doesn't believe her for a second (how can she, when Alison doesn't even believe herself).

"Promise me you won't tell the others," she pleads, then, because she knows that if Emily finds out about this then she'll stop at nothing to help them, and she can't… she can't put her in that kind of danger.

Not again.

"I promise," Aria replies, and Alison breathes a sigh of relief – but too soon, because Aria isn't finished speaking. "But if things look like they're getting bad, and it looks like you need help… sorry, Ali, but I'm not going to stand back and throw you to wolves."

"It won't come to that," Alison says with a conviction she doesn't feel, and Aria throws her a sad little smile that tells her she's not fooling anyone.

"Whatever you say." Aria moves to stand, then, her sandwich long finished, and she pauses after she's risen to her feet, worried eyes on Alison's face. "Be careful, Ali."

"I always am."

x-x-x

"This is stupid," Alison sighs as she emerges from the changing room, hands nervously smoothing down the front of the dress she's trying on. "I don't even want to _go_."

"Yeah, well, tough shit cause you have to." Hanna's leaning against the wall outside, gives Alison a once-over with a critical eye and shakes her head. "Nah, that's not it."

"This is like the twentieth one you've made me try on," Alison groans, exasperated, because they've been at this for hours and usually Alison would be overjoyed at the prospect of spending the entire day at the mall but that had been _before_ her stupid heart had gotten broken – this winter ball that her Dad's organised was _supposed_ to be her and Emily's first dance together, but now Alison would rather spend the entire night lying in bed with Pepe, stuffing her face with ice cream and watching shitty movies, but apparently Hanna (and her Dad – she's already tried to weasel her way out of showing her face) has other ideas. "How much longer do we have to do this for?"

"Until we find the perfect one."

"Perfect for _what_?" Alison grumbles, stepping back into the changing room and yanking the curtain closed a little more viciously than strictly necessary. "It's not like there's going to be anyone there I want to impress." She sighs, and she knows she sounds miserable and petulant but she'd found out earlier that week that Emily had no intentions of coming to the ball anymore and even though Alison really can't blame her, and even though she knows it'll be easier not to have the brunette there and reminding her of what she'd lost, she'd still been disappointed when she'd heard the news.

"But you're still Alison DiLaurentis," Hanna calls out, voice reaching Alison as she's dragging the zipper of the dress down, tugging it off and shoving it back on the hanger before reaching for the next one and swearing that this is the last. "And all eyes are going to be on you, and you need to look amazing."

Alison doesn't know why Hanna's so hung up on this – she'd shown up on her doorstep at nine a.m. that morning and informed Alison that, unless she had any other plans, they were going shopping for the day, and Alison had been too shocked to protest. She's barely seen Hanna since she and Emily had broken up, would have never expected the blonde to seek her out, and she's half-convinced that Hanna has an ulterior motive here but she can't for the life of her think of what it could be.

"This is the last one," she vows as she pulls the silky blue material over her head, zipping it up and eyeing herself in the mirror – this one is definitely an improvement on most of the others that Hanna had picked out for her over the course of the day, and she just hopes that the blonde agrees so that she can go back _home_.

"Oh my god, that is totally it!" Hanna cries, delighted, as Alison steps outside, a radiant smile crossing her face as she claps her hands in-front of her. "That's the one. You look… incredible."

"Thank you," she replies quietly, glancing down at the floor-length hem and wondering idly how well she'll be able to walk in this thing. "Does this mean we can go?"

"This means that now we can find you some shoes." Hanna's eyes twinkle with mirth as Alison groans, and Hanna laughs as her hands land on Alison's shoulders, spinning her around and pushing her gently back into the changing room to slip out of the dress and back into her jeans.

"I have shoes that'll match back at home," Alison tells her when she re-emerges, the blue dress tucked under one arm and the other five Hanna had handed her under the other – she hands them to Hanna to put back on the rails while she goes to pay.

"Can we at least get some food before we go back? I'm starving." Hanna asks as she falls back into step with Alison as they're leaving the shop, hooking her arm through one of Alison's – she glances down at her elbow in shock, but Hanna doesn't say a word and so neither does she.

"Fine," she groans, because she really _does_ want to get back home (there's a Netflix queue and some cookie dough with her name on it), but at the same time, she's also had a really good time today. Much better than she would have if she would've spent the whole day in bed moping like she was planning.

Hanna drags her towards an Italian restaurant Alison had spotted when they'd walked in, swearing that they have the best pizza she's ever eaten, and as they settle at a table and open up their menus, Alison can't help but watch the other woman sat across from her curiously.

"What?" Hanna asks without even glancing up, apparently feeling the weight of Alison's gaze on her.

"I just… why did you ask me to come here today?" It's been playing on her mind all day, ever since she'd opened her front door to reveal a smiling Hanna Marin, but now's the first time she's been able to pluck up enough courage to actually ask about it.

"Because no-one else would've wanted to come with me."

"You didn't buy anything," Alison points out. "You didn't even look for anything." Hanna finally glances up, then, a wry smile curving at the edges of her lips as their eyes meet.

"Because I don't need anything," she eventually answers, her voice soft. "But Spencer mentioned that you were having trouble finding a dress and I thought… I thought it might be nice to spend some time together. I had fun, last time we did this."

"Me too." The smile they share is tentative, just like all their others – it's still so new, them being around one another like this without there being any antagonism, and it's _nice_ , Alison has missed having this in her life, wishes that she'd realised how amazing Hanna was back when she was young and naïve, because maybe then she could've saved them both a lot of pain.

"Plus, Spencer's seen you moping in your room for the past two Sunday's so I thought a change might be nice." She's teasing, her eyes sparkling, and Alison makes a face at her across the table.

"I don't _mope_." It's a lie, because that's _all_ she does, lately, and Hanna scoffs like she knows it.

"Please, yes you do." Hanna's gaze turns searching, and she bites at her bottom lip as though she's deciding whether or not to add something else. "She does a lot of that, too." Alison's heart thumps a little louder in her chest at the mention of Emily – though she doesn't feel like she can't breathe, too, so she supposes that at least she's getting a _little_ better.

"How… how is she doing?" Alison dares to ask the question she hasn't allowed herself to for so long, and Hanna regards her curiously for a moment before she answers.

"From the looks of it? Probably about as well as you are, I'd say." Alison's eyes drop from Hanna's face to the table that separates them, and she reaches out for her drink with a shaking hand and takes a gulp in order to avoid having to reply.

"So not very well at all," she murmurs, eventually, her voice soft as velvet. "God, I never meant to hurt her. I swore I never would again." Whenever she closes her eyes at night she sees the look on Emily's face before Alison had turned and walked away from her, and every single time she feels it rip at her, and she swears that by now her insides can be little more than jagged pieces, a puzzle that she doesn't think will ever be able to be put back together.

"It's not exactly your fault," Hanna replies quietly, but Alison shakes her head because it doesn't matter how many times she hears those words, doesn't matter how many people tell her that she's not to blame, it doesn't make her _feel_ any better because it was still her who was forced to walk away. She jumps when a hand covers hers on-top of the table, Hanna squeezing gently as she takes note of the turmoil on Alison's face. "If it was, I'd be kicking your ass instead of about to share a pizza with you."

"I thought you didn't share food," Alison teases, lifting her eyes from their hands to Hanna's face – she makes a face, and Alison chuckles, letting Hanna order whatever she wants when their waiter re-appears at their table.

"You know," Hanna says when he's taken their menus and disappeared, eyeing Alison thoughtfully. "I never… I didn't think you were serious about her. I thought you were just using her, when you first came back. I didn't trust you." Alison nods, because she can't blame Hanna for thinking the worst of her – she's sure she would think the same, had their positions been reversed. "But seeing you guys together? That's what love looks like, and I'm sorry I doubted you." It's an echo of what Spencer had told her in her kitchen, and Alison bites hard at her bottom lip, trying to focus on the sting as she feels the all-too-familiar prick of tears at the back of her eyes, desperate to keep them at bay. She thinks that it's ironic, that once upon a time her biggest obstacle in entering a relationship with Emily had been their friends and their disapproval, and now that they're all rooting for the two of them they can't be together at all.

"You know I don't blame you for that. I gave you a hundred reasons to doubt me – you'd be an idiot if you didn't."

"I know," Hanna nods, expression still pensive. "I also know that I wasn't exactly the biggest advocate of your relationship at the start," Alison manages a small smile, because she can just imagine some of the conversations about it the blonde would have had, at the beginning, "but for what it's worth now, I hope you guys can find your way back to each other, sooner rather than later."


	27. Chapter 27

When Emily walks into school one Wednesday and finds her three friends talking to one another in hushed, whispered voices that taper off as soon as they realise that she’s near, she frowns, coming to a stop beside Hanna and glancing between them curiously.

“What’s going on?” She asks, watching carefully the guilty looks that pass between the three of them, her frown deepening.

“Uh, nothing,” Hanna is the first to answer, turning to Emily with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were just talking about the winter ball.”

“Oh.” Emily thinks that that might explain their guilty faces – when she’d told them she wasn’t going, they’d offered to spend the night at home with her instead, but she’d waved them off and told them not to be stupid, and ever since they don’t really talk about it in-front of her, for which she’s grateful.

She’d been looking forward to going, before… _before_. When she was younger, whenever dances had rolled around she’d always dreamt of taking Alison, of being able to wrap her arms around the blonde’s waist and sway on the dancefloor, but of course it had never become a reality – Alison had been too busy hanging onto the arm of her squeeze of the week, and Emily had spent the evening at the corners of the room, trying and failing to keep her eyes from wandering Alison’s way every three seconds.

But when Alison had told her about the winter ball with a roll of her eyes as she’d complained about having to suck up to entire room of people, there had been a flutter of excitement in her heart, that this could be a second chance to have something she’d always wanted – and good practice for prom, which she’d been set on attending with Alison on her arm.

Now? Even though prom is months and months away, and even though she’d told Alison she’d never give up on them, she wonders if the dust will have settled by then.

“You sure we can’t persuade you to come?” Aria asks hopefully, but Emily is shaking her head before she’s even finished speaking, because the thought of going, of seeing Alison looking drop-dead-gorgeous on a night that should have been _theirs_ , is… torture. “Well, if you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know.” She knows she won’t, though, not unless by some sort of miracle she and Alison can be back together in just over a week’s time. The bell rings before they can try and persuade her any more, and Emily doesn’t miss the look that passes between the three of them before they go their separate ways, and wonders if maybe they hadn’t been talking about the winter ball, after all.

She pushes it from her mind as she settles into her first class of the day, though, because she knows her grades have bene suffering from her lack of concentration lately (she’d gotten a D on her last English assignment and had been appalled), and with college playing so much on her mind lately she knows she needs to get herself together if she has a hope of getting out of this town next year.

The school counsellor had been surprisingly helpful, giving her a list of colleges with scholarships that she could apply for to get help with tuition, because she knows that’s something that her parents are worried about, even if they’ll never directly tell her that, and he’d said her coaching position at the school would look good on applications, and for the first time in a long while she’s actually _excited_ about the thought of getting out of here (she still thinks of Alison, guiltily, whenever she sees the stack of applications on her desk in her room at home, but she can’t let that hold her back, knows Alison would never forgive her if she tried).

When Spencer dashes off after Alison when fourth period ends without a goodbye to Emily, she stares after them in confusion, frown back on her face as she wonders what the hell is going on. She knows that Spencer’s still tutoring Alison and spends at least two lunch periods a week with her in the library, but she’s never run away like that, and Emily remembers the whispers from that morning and vows that when she finds Hanna and Aria she’s going to demand to know what they’re trying to hide from her.

She doesn’t have to look far – they’re leaning against the wall opposite her classroom, and she strides over to them quickly, but before she can open her mouth Hanna has slipped her arm through Emily’s and is tugging her down the hall, with Aria following in their wake.

“We need to talk to you about something,” is all Hanna says, cryptically, before she’s dragging Emily through the door to another classroom and locking it behind them, yanking the blind over the door closed, but Emily is too busy staring at the other occupants of the room in shock, her eyes widening as they meet Alison’s, the blonde perched on the edge of one of the desks in the centre of the room.

“What the _hell_ is going on?” Alison hisses, irritation etched across her face, though Emily sees the pain flash through her eyes as they meet Emily’s before she looks away. “I have things to - ”

“You’ve been keeping things from us, Alison.” Hanna cuts her off, and Emily turns to see her leaning back against the wall with her arms folded across her chest. “We know you’ve been working with Mona.”

Emily nearly laughs, because _that_ is the most ridiculous thing that she’s ever heard – but then she sees the way that Alison’s head snaps around to where Aria stands on Emily’s left, her gaze narrowed into a fierce glare.

“You swore to me you wouldn’t say a word.” Her voice is low, tinged with barely-contained anger, and Emily has never seen her look so furious and it almost makes her want to take a step back even though it isn’t even directed at her. “I can’t fucking _believe_ you.”

“I said I’d keep it to myself so long as you weren’t in danger,” Aria defends, and Emily feels like she’s about a hundred steps behind, because she has absolutely no idea what’s unfolding in-front of her. “You nearly got _arrested_ , Ali.”

“ _Nearly_ being the key word, Aria,” Alison snarls back, the words spit from between her teeth. “I told you I didn’t want anyone else involved in this.”

“Well, tough shit, because we already _are_ , Alison.” Hanna’s eyes flash with traces of her own anger as she takes several steps forward. “We’ve been involved in this since the start, and I can’t _believe_ you’ve been going behind our backs this entire time.”

“Not this entire time,” Alison is quick to correct, looking hurt. “Just… just since Emily and I broke up.” The mention of her name gives Emily the strength she needs to finally find her voice, her hands twisting into fists at her sides, annoyed at both Alison _and_ her friends for keeping her so out of the loop.

“And what, exactly, have you been _doing_ behind our backs, Ali? Seeing as no-one’s told me a thing, it’d be nice to know what’s actually going on.” She ignores the guilty looks that Spencer, Hanna and Aria share, her gaze focused solely on Alison, who looks defeated as she sighs, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling before they meet Emily’s.

“I’ve been working with Mona,” she starts, but Emily interrupts her, shaking her head.

“You _hate_ Mona.”

“And yet she’s the only damn person in this whole town who actually might have a hope of helping me find out who A is before it’s too late.” Alison lets the words wash over her, lets them sink in. “I didn’t want any of you to know because I didn’t want you in the firing line any more than you already are.”

“And you didn’t once think that maybe six heads would be better than one?” Spencer speaks, for the first time, before Emily can find the words to respond – she’s too busy twisting Alison’s around and around in her head, feeling sick to her stomach as she thinks about how Alison must have felt, crawling to Mona for help, about the _danger_ she’s put herself in, digging into A’s past.

“Yeah, I did think about that, Spencer.” Alison tears her eyes away from Emily’s face to instead turn to the other brunette, her voice still tinged with irritation. “And then I thought about Emily getting hit by a car - ” She draws a ragged breath, and Emily wishes that she’d been looking away, that she hadn’t seen the expression that flashes across her face, the same one that haunts her dreams every single night – the one on Alison’s face when she’d stumbled over to the ambulance, the sheer panic that something awful had happened and she’d been too late to stop it. “And I thought about what it would do to me if something similar happened to you because of me.”

“That wasn’t your decision,” Hanna replies, her voice raising slightly, and Alison flinches at the sound of it. “You said it yourself – we’re already involved in this. You should’ve given us the chance to help put a stop to it.”

“And it’s not too late for that,” Spencer adds, watching Alison closely. “Because you haven’t found anything, have you?”

“Not yet,” Alison sighs, sounding defeated. “But there’s got to be something in those files we stole – it’s just a case of finding the time to look through them.”

“Which would be a hell of a lot quicker with six people looking instead of two.” Alison and Spencer lock gazes, a battle of wills – Emily watches the way Alison’s jaw clenches, the anger on her face, but Spencer doesn’t back down, just stares calmly back at her until Alison shakes her head and looks away.

“What files?” Emily asks, when no-one else speaks for a few moments.

“From Radley,” Alison murmurs her reply, looking down at her hands. “All roads seem to lead back there, after all.” They all make a noise of agreement. “Mona and I have been planning a break-in for weeks, because we figured there would be something in there that might give us _some_ sort of clue. So last night Mona stole the electronic copies of their patient files, and I got all the physical copies.”

“ _All_ of them?” Emily asks in disbelief, because she can’t even imagine how much paperwork that would be to rifle through, how many patients have passed through Radley’s doors since it had opened. “How the hell did you even manage that?”

“Probably best you don’t know.” Alison’s head lifts, and she manages a small smile as their eyes meet. “Plausible deniability, and all that.”

“Are the police after you?”

“No,” Alison shakes her head. “Mona erased all the security footage – I watched her do it, so I know she didn’t double-cross me – and no-one saw us get in or get out. We made sure of that.”

“It was still really, really stupid,” Spencer points out and Alison just shrugs.

“Maybe, but if we find something, it’ll be worth it.”

“We as in…?” Spencer prompts, something like excitement glittering in her eyes and Alison sighs again, exasperated.

“You can help, if you want. But the closer we get to finding answers…”

“The angrier A’s going to get,” Spencer finishes, and she shares a glance with Hanna, Aria and Emily, and they all nod – Emily thinks this might be the closest they’ve ever been, to uncovering _something_ , and she thinks about what it might mean for her and Alison if they do (she thinks then that Alison’s apparent eagerness to work with someone she can’t stand might actually make sense, if she was thinking the same), feels something like hope flicker to life in her chest for the first time in a long while. “We know. And we don’t care.”

x-x-x

“Emily.” Alison looks surprised to see the brunette on her doorstep later that day – and if she’s being honest with herself, Emily’s a little surprised, too. She hadn’t spoken to Alison (or any of the other girls, really) since they’d all left that classroom earlier, still annoyed they’d kept things from her, and when she’d gotten home from school and decided to go for a walk, her feet had lead her here. “What are you doing here?”

“I… honestly, uh, I don’t know.” Alison frowns, and Emily sighs, suddenly exhausted. “Can I come in?” Alison worries at her bottom lip for a moment before she nods and steps aside, and Emily smiles for what feels like the first time that day when Pepe rushes forwards to greet her.

“You know you’ve been really stupid, right?” Emily finds herself saying, her eyes focused on Pepe instead of Alison, because she doesn’t trust herself to look at her, to see her so close, and not do something stupid herself. “Reckless, and stupid.”

“I’m tired of sitting back and just… _waiting_ for something to happen.” Alison’s voice is quiet but steady. “I let A get in the way of us, and I’m not letting them take anything else from me.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Emily laughs, but it rings hollow in her ears. “We’ve gotten close a hundred times but it’s… it’s never lead anywhere. Hell, we _caught_ A, we got Mona locked away in Radley, and another one popped up in her place. It’s never-ending.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Emily glances up, sees Alison shrug, sees the set of her jaw and knows that there’s no changing her mind, not on this. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

“Even if it means risking your life?” It’s the terrifying thought that’s been playing on Emily’s mind all day, because this A has shown that they’ll kill to keep their secret, and Emily can’t bear the thought of something happening to Alison, of losing her for good.

“I don’t have much of a life to risk,” Alison says softly, her voice laced with so much pain that it threatens to bring Emily to her knees. “Not without you.”

“Don’t say that.” Even though she knows she shouldn’t, that it’s far too dangerous to reach for Alison because it’ll only add fuel to the flames that flicker to life whenever they’re alone together, she takes a step towards the blonde, reaches out for her hands and squeezes them tightly.

“It’s true, though,” Alison murmurs, and she steps forward, into Emily’s arms, and Emily’s breath catches in her throat at the feeling of having Alison pressed so close. “I had to do this, I have to find them, because it’s the only way I can get you back.”

“Not the only way.” Alison’s arms wrap around her back and Emily lets her forehead rest on the top of Alison’s head, closing her eyes and breathing her in. “We can carry on like we were.”

“I won’t risk you like that.” Emily sighs, because she knew it had been a long shot, her hands curling around Alison’s hips because now that she’s so close she can’t help but reach out and touch her, drawn to her like they’re magnets. “And I wish you – and the other girls – weren’t helping with this.”

“We’re not letting you do this on your own, Ali. Especially with Mona – I don’t trust her.”

“Neither do I,” Alison admits, the words a quiet whisper against Emily’s collarbone. “But I had to… she’s smart. We need her.”

“Do you really think we can do this? Catch them, once and for all?”

“I have to. Otherwise…” She trails off, and Emily feels the deep breath Alison takes and holds her tighter, and she thinks that, if it weren’t for the other girls, then she’d take Alison’s hand and they’d leave town tonight and never come back. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too.” It’s still torture, seeing Alison every single day, and it doesn’t make it any easier to know how she’s suffering, too. “You know,” Emily starts, hesitantly, and Alison hears her tone of voice and lifts her head – she’s so close that Emily can see the different shades of blue swirling in her eyes, and she’s still so beautiful that it takes her breath away. “If we’re already digging into A’s past and we’re already pissing them off…”

“No,” Alison answers immediately, knowing what Emily’s getting at, but there’s a longing in her eyes that contradicts her words. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I know.” She should’ve stayed far away, because Alison has always been able to disarm her with nothing but a look, and she knows it’ll be so much harder if she kisses her again, but she’s so close, Emily surrounded by the scent of her shampoo, and she doesn’t know when she’ll be alone with her again. “But you should know by now that I can’t stay away from you.”

“And I can’t stay away from you, either, so I guess we’re doomed.” Alison’s eyes close, her hands sliding from Emily’s back to around her neck, and Emily thinks that now would be a really, really good time to leave but she’s rooted to the spot, her mind going back to that kiss in the hallway that had haunted her for days afterward.

“Doomed in the best possible way,” Emily murmurs, before she curls a hand around the back of Alison’s neck and brings their lips together. It’s not a soft kiss, it’s desperate and needy and an echo of their last, except this time it’s Alison shoving Emily backwards until she’s colliding with the wall, a hand dragging down her collarbone until warm fingers are slipping into the cup of her bra and pinching at a nipple, a thigh pressing roughly between her legs.

Really, Emily thinks, it’s a wonder they’ve lasted this long without caving. It’s the first time either of them have dared to go to the others house since they’d broken up, because it was always going to end like this. And Emily wonders how much she’ll regret this, when the moment is inevitably broken and the dust clears but god, none of that matters when Alison’s mouth is pressing blazing, biting kisses down the side of her neck and she’s grinding against her thigh and groaning against her skin because she’s missed this, she’s missed _Alison_ , and if this is how her world is going to come crashing down then she really can’t think of a better way for it to happen.

Alison’s hands are eager as they drop to the button of Emily’s jeans, popping it open and pushing a hand beneath, and she presses another searing kiss to Emily’s lips as she runs the pads of her fingers over Emily’s sex through the thin cotton of her underwear and Emily’s legs nearly buckle as her knees go weak, only the way Alison’s pressed so tightly against her keeping her upright.

“God, we shouldn’t be do this,” Alison breathes against Emily’s ear, her voice husky, and Emily’s head tilts back against the wall behind her as Alison presses lightly against her clit.

“Please don’t stop,” Emily practically begs, her eyes falling closed as Alison’s teeth graze against the side of her jaw, her fingers tugging Emily’s underwear to the slide before two of them are sliding deep inside of her – her hips jerk against Alison’s hand, her mouth falling open as she moans, the fingers of her left hand, curled around the back of Alison’s neck, digging in hard enough for her to let out a low hiss.

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.” Alison’s tongue slides from Emily’s ear down to the bottom of her neck as she curls her fingers, thumb skirting across the brunette’s clit and it’s been so long since the last time they did this – on the edge of a pool when everything was so much easier – that Emily is already so, so close. “But this can’t happen again. Not until…” She trails off, presses her fingers deep enough for Emily to see stars. “Not until after.”

Emily doesn’t know how they’re ever supposed to stop, though, now that the walls they’d both put up to separate them have come crashing down, but she can’t quite manage to voice the words because Alison’s pressing against her in all the right places. She slides a hand into blonde hair and tugs Alison’s head back up, catches her lips in another kiss as she comes, pleasure sparking through her entire body as she clutches Alison close and breathes her name into her mouth.

She’s reaching for Alison as soon as feels like she can breathe again, her heart still pounding loud in her ears as she pushes Alison back against the wall opposite them, pinning her in place with her body and she wishes she could take her time, wishes she could savour this because she doesn’t know when she’ll get the chance again, but she glances at the clock hanging above the fireplace in the living room and knows that Alison’s Dad will be home soon and while he has no problem with the two of them being together she’s sure he won’t appreciate finding them like _this_.

She slides a hand beneath the hem of the dress Alison’s wearing and drags her underwear a little way down her thighs, her breath catching when she feels how wet Alison is beneath, liquid heat under her fingertips, her hips jerking as Emily’s fingers circle her clit lightly.

It’s the sounds Alison makes when she’s like this that Emily misses the most, and as she presses inside of her she leans back so she can hear her, watches the way her eyes screw shut as her head thuds back against the wall, her back arching and her hips grinding against Emily’s hand and she wants this imprinted on her eyelids, never wants to forget a second of them being together like this.

When she feels Alison tightening around her fingers she knows she’s close and she pulls her hand away – she takes a second to grin at the frustrated glare Alison shoots her way as her eyes flicker open before Emily drops to her knees, and she smirks when she hears Alison breathe out a quiet curse as Emily’s throwing one of Alison’s legs over her shoulder, her mouth on the blonde’s sex a moment later and she groans because the memories will never live up to this, will never be as good as the feeling of Alison grinding against her, as the _taste_ of her, hot and addictive on Emily’s tongue as she drives her towards the edge and over, and she doesn’t stop until Alison tugs her away with trembling fingers.

Alison kisses her, then, soft and slow as she tastes herself on Emily’s tongue, and Emily never wants it to end because she knows that when it does she will have to leave, she will have to pretend that this didn’t happen, they will go back to being strangers and she doesn’t know for how much longer she’ll have the strength to do that because it gets harder every damn day instead of easier.

She has to pull away, though, when they hear the sound of a key in the lock – they spring apart, ducking inside the living room to give them a few extra seconds to try and make themselves look _slightly_ more presentable even though Emily is sure that it’s perfectly obvious what they’ve just been up to.

She’s relieved to see that it’s only Jason, though – he ducks his head inside the room and pauses when he sees Emily, glancing between the two of them curiously before a wide smile tugs at his lips, and Alison waves a threatening hand towards him.

“Do not,” she starts, voice controlled and stern, “say a word.”

“Wasn’t going to,” he says, but he’s still grinning as he turns and wanders into to kitchen, Pepe trotting along at his heels. “Glad you two have worked everything out,” he calls, and Emily and Alison flinch as one, the reminder that nothing has changed, that nothing has been _fixed_ washing over them like ice-cold water.

“I… I should go,” Emily murmurs after a long pause, even though her mind’s screaming at her stay, that A and whatever they might do to her doesn’t matter, so long as they’re together, but she sees the steely look of determination settle into place in Alison’s eyes and knows there’s no convincing _her_ of that.

“Yeah, you probably should.” Alison sighs as she moves towards the door, pulling it open and wrapping her arms around her torso, like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I’ll see you later?” Alison winces as she’s reminded of their get-together to start looking through the files in just a few hours’ time, and Emily wonders how she’s going to be able to stand being so close to Alison so soon after this.

“Yeah. Be careful, Em,” she cautions, worry in her eyes, and Emily manages a smile and wonders if it’s in any way reassuring.

“I always am.”


	28. Chapter 28

They find a name in the Radley files: Charles DiLaurentis.

Alison was the one to find it, opened the file and read the name staring back up at her and frozen, staring down at the paper in her hands with a look of horror on her face, until Spencer had appeared at her elbow and asked what was wrong.

Alison hadn’t been able to answer – she’d just thrust the file towards her, and Spencer had gasped and gaped at the name before taking it from Alison’s hands, her eyes scanning across the page, and Alison had felt sick to her stomach that something like this could have been kept from her, something so _huge_ could have been kept secret, and she’d found herself at the window of her attic staring at the backyard below and wondering how many more bombshells her Mom could drop on her, even though she was long gone.

She’d ignored the whispers of the girls behind her until Emily had appeared at her side, running a hand across her back and she’d allowed herself a moment of weakness, turning to her and letting the brunette’s arms wrap around her, but it couldn’t comfort her, not when she felt like her whole life had been tipped on its head.

The next day she’d taken the file to her Dad, slammed it down on the table in-front of him while he was eating, and he’d looked up at her, angry as she sent his mug of coffee clattering to the floor, the ceramic smashing against the kitchen tile, until he’d seen the look on her face, glanced down at the file and when she saw the colour drain from his face she scoffed, because it just confirmed what she’d already known – that he’d lied to her, for her whole life.

Jason had been there, too, because she didn’t think it fair that he wasn’t included in this – and she was a little relieved to see that he was as shocked as she was, that she hadn’t been the only one their parents had kept this from.

Their Dad had sat them down and told them the whole miserable story of the brother neither of them never knew they had (Jason’s face had paled as their Dad had talked, and when he’d finished he’d sat, frozen, for a long minute before he’d risen to his feet, angrier than Alison had ever seen him (and she’d seen him angry before, she’d _made_ him angry before), his face red as he’d yelled), and when he was done Alison had had to leave, running out of the door behind her brother, and less than an hour later she sits in Spencer’s kitchen and she tells the girls what her Dad had told her.

“I’m so sorry, Ali.” Emily’s hand has been holding hers the entire time she’s been speaking, strong and sure, but Alison barely even feels it, because every part of her has been numb, ever since she found that file, and she’d expected hearing her Dad explain would have made her feel better but instead she just feels about a hundred times _worse_.

Because she has a brother, a brother she’d never known about. A brother who was locked away and forgotten about because her parents couldn’t handle him, and she feels sick to her stomach, can barely imagine what that must have been like for him, doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to forgive her father for this.

She thinks of the tentative relationship that they’ve managed to strike up, since she came back, and she knows that it’ll never be the same again. She doesn’t know how to _trust_ him, and she knows that she hasn’t been honest with him, either, with the kidnapping story she’d spun to protect them all, but this? What he’s done, what her Mom had done, too, it’s… it’s _sickening_ , and she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to look him in the eye again, doesn’t know how to go home and face him in a house that’s hidden so many secrets.

“So… do we really think that Ali’s brother is the one coming after us? There’s a death certificate in this file.” Hanna waves it as she speaks, and Alison glances at it and wants to burn it, wants to shred it to pieces and pretend it doesn’t exist, wants to go back to yesterday when her world, though off-kilter, ever since she and Emily had split up, was at least still spinning. “It could just be a coincidence, and he was in there but not involved in any of this.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Alison replies quietly. “And that death certificate isn’t real,” she adds because she’s read that file front cover to back last night, until her eyes had started to blur and she couldn’t look at it for another second. “My Dad said Charles died of a drug over-dose, but there’s a form for organ donation in there.”

“You think your Dad’s lying to you?” Spencer asks, and Alison hates the sympathy she sees in the brunette’s eyes, the gentle note to her voice like Alison’s about to break (and she is, she’s barely holding herself together but she’s _not_ going to break-down in-front of all of them, damn it).

“Well it wouldn’t exactly be the _first_ time.” Mona’s there, too, and at the sound of her voice Alison’s eyes narrow into a glare, turning her head towards her, and the brunette just blinks slowly back at her. “What? It isn’t.”

Alison hadn’t wanted her here, hadn’t wanted her to know how fucked-up her family truly is (though Alison thinks that Mona knows more than even any of the other girls do – she’d had her dairy for a long time, after all, had no doubt read the entire sorry thing, knows more about Alison than anyone else in the world), but Mona _had_ been helpful, and she knows that, without her, they wouldn’t have any of these files in the first place.

That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a part of Alison that doesn’t want to leap across the kitchen counter and wring her neck every time she opens her mouth, though.

“I don’t think it was,” she says, slowly, thinking back to her Dad’s face when he’d told them the story. “I think that’s what he believed – or what my Mom _let_ him believe, but whether that’s what actually happened…”

“Your Mom did spend an awful lot of time there,” Aria points out quietly. “We thought she was with Bethany, but maybe…”

“Maybe she was with Charles, too. Maybe they were friends.” Alison thinks of the dead girl in her grave, wonders if maybe she has something to do with the reason why Charles might be after them – though she thinks that maybe he doesn’t need more of a reason than the awful way their parents had treated him, like their dirty little secret, to be hidden away and never spoken about. “God, this is so messed up.”

She closes her eyes, shakes her head and wills no tears to fall. For so long she’d thought of A as a monster (and they still are, undoubtedly), but to find out that they were probably her flesh and blood? That, in another life, they would have been family instead of enemies? She’d always known that she was at the centre of this whole thing, but she’d had no idea _how_ , and she wishes that she’d never found out.

“This doesn’t change anything though, right?” Hanna asks, almost anxiously. “We’re still going to take him down?” Alison can feel Hanna’s gaze on her, opens her eyes to find all five girls watching her.

“No, it doesn’t change anything,” she answers quietly, because she’d spent the night lying awake staring at either that damn file or her ceiling, wondering if this made things any different but this is still the same person that has been torturing her and her friends, the same one that had threatened Emily and hit her with a car, the same person that had strangled her in her own home, and just because they share the same blood that doesn’t make it okay. “This is still A. And they’ve still gotta go.”

“Not to rain on the parade,” Mona cuts in, and Alison has to force herself to keep breathing and to keep her mouth shut, just like every other time Mona’s spoken that day. “But like Ali just said – this doesn’t change anything. We have a name, but so _what_? We can’t do shit with a name.”

“It’s more than we knew before,” Emily defends, and Alison wishes that she wasn’t looking at her with such concern – she doesn’t think the brunette’s eyes have left her face once, and she finds it hard to breathe with the weight of that stare on her, because it’s oh so easy to cast her mind back to yesterday afternoon, to remember the way Emily had felt around her fingers, hot and wet and _perfect,_ and in the wake of everything that’s been revealed since, Alison wants nothing more than to take her hand and pull her to her house, up to her bedroom to lock the door, to lose herself in the woman that she loves, and wipe the memories of the past two days from her mind. “That counts for something.”

“It doesn’t count for a _lot_.” Alison hates that Mona’s right, knows that she can do very little to argue with her. “We might know _who_ A is, but we don’t know anything else. We don’t know why he’s after us, we don’t know where he’s hiding, if he’s working with someone else, what he even looks like… And we have no way to find any of that out.”

“Maybe not…” Spencer trails off, and Alison turns her head to face the brunette, watches the wheels turning in her mind, an idea sparking in her eyes, and she’s glad, for the first time since she’d been cornered in a classroom yesterday afternoon, that she’d included the rest of them in this.

She doesn’t know how she would have dealt with this revelation, without them. Doesn’t know how she’d have been able to handle finding out about Charles if they hadn’t been there, if it had just been her and Mona. Doesn’t know she would have ever found the words on her own to tell them about it if they hadn’t seen the file, too – if she ever would have been able to admit that her own brother is the one that has caused them so much strife.

“What are you thinking?” Mona asks, excited as her eyes focus on Spencer, and Alison thinks about how dangerous the two of them would have been, working on the A Team together.

“We know that A has a hell of a lot of money, right?” They all nod, because without it there’s no way he could be in so many places at once, have the equipment he must need to keep them all in check and to keep hidden and out of sight.

“You think there might be a trail,” Mona replies, a smile curving at the edges of her lips as Spencer nods.

“Ali, if your Mom knew that Charles was alive this whole time and kept it from your Dad… it’s possible that she might’ve been funding him somehow. And if we find that money, if we can follow it…”

“Then we might be able to find him,” Mona finishes, while the rest of them just look between the two brunettes in awe. “Ali,” Mona turns her attention from Spencer to the blonde instead, so elated by their conversation that her usual disdain whenever she’s forced to address Alison is noticeably absent. “I know you weren’t exactly around, but do you think there’s a computer or a laptop at your place where your Mom might have checked her online banking?”

“Uh, my Dad has a computer in his study, but I don’t know if my Mom ever used it.” She hadn’t been there, it’s been three years since she last laid eyes on her Mother and yet she’s still haunting her, could have ruined her life in more ways than Alison had originally thought, by hiding her brother from her. “If not, there’s her office.” Alison hasn’t ever set foot in it, but she’s seen the signs. “Jason has a key, I can get it from him.”

“Okay.” Mona nods to herself, and Alison can see her mind working, calculating what it is, exactly, that she needs to do, and Alison has to admire her in that moment, despite the way she feels about her. “I’ll need access to those computers.”

“You’re going to hack into my Mom’s accounts.”

“Well it’s not like she’s _using_ them.” Alison’s eyes flash, and Hanna is quick to intervene, sensing the tension between her two friends, not for the first time that evening.

“She’s just going to take a look, right Mona?” Hanna asks, throwing Mona a pointed look. “She’s not gonna do anything to them.”

“Scouts honour,” Mona replies sarcastically, and Alison’s eyes narrow into a glare but she bites her tongue, because much as she might hate it, she needs Mona’s crazy computer skills for this.

“I don’t even know if all of her accounts are still open,” she says then, because she that had been the farthest thing from her mind when her Mom’s body had been dug up in Spencer’s backyard.

“Doesn’t hurt to check,” Spencer murmurs, a glint still in her eye. “Especially if it gets us somewhere.”

“And if he’s still using her money, Charles probably kept them open,” Aria points out, speaking slowly. “And what do you think he’d do if those accounts suddenly… disappeared?”

“I think that would definitely get his attention.” Spencer’s practically alight with glee, and Alison knows that this is the part where they stray into dangerous territory – they’re already pushing it, by rooting around at Radley, and she knows that Charles will have suspected them as the culprit, especially with them spending so much time together lately, and especially with Mona, and she wonders how long it will be before one of them gets a text that tells them to stop looking.

“Do you want to get started now?” She asks Mona, because even though the thought of spending more than a few minutes with the brunette makes her skin crawl, she knows that they need to move fast with this if they’re going to keep ahead of the game, if they want to have any hope in hell of bringing Charles down.

“Hell yeah.”

x-x-x

The amount of damning evidence Mona finds rooting through her Mom’s bank accounts makes Alison’s stomach roil.

Thousands of dollars set aside to several mysterious accounts, money raised from those charity fundraisers her Mom had been so fond of throwing and Alison had hated being involved in (she thinks of the winter ball her Dad is throwing, wonders how much of that is him taking over from her Mom, wonders how much of that money will find its way into Charles’ pockets).

She looks at the numbers and she feels sick, thinks of the number of things she’s been involved in – thinks of her friends parents, and how much money they’d put into these kinds of things and god, had the whole fucking town been funding A’s tirade against them?

She stands over Mona’s shoulder as she works to make sure she’s not up to no good, reads the screen silently and feels her horror grow with every page Mona clicks through, an endless supply of money being moved around, more than Alison can even comprehend, and sure enough, some of it is still moving, some transactions listed after her Mom had been murdered, and even though Alison knows that she should be celebrating that they’ve actually found something that they can use, she just feels _disgusted_ that her own mother could have kept something like this from her, from _all_ of them, because she’s sure that her Dad has no idea about any of this, believes that he thinks that Charles is dead and maybe that’s her being naïve but she can recall the haunted look in his eye all too easily.

Mona tells them that whatever she used to get into Jessica’s accounts is untraceable, and that Charles will have no idea that they’ve been snooping into his finances. Alison is hesitant to believe her, but they have no other choice, save calling Caleb to confirm it and Hanna says firmly that she doesn’t want him involved in any of this and Alison isn’t willing to press her on it because if she could have it her way, Emily would be in the dark, too.

So they pull back and they don’t do a thing as they try to formulate a plan of what to do next. Mona is confident she can trace the money and shut Charles down at the source, and Alison is content to let her and Spencer work out the finer details, too emotionally drained to listen to tech talk she doesn’t understand as they talk about bringing down her brother once and for all.

She lets Emily comfort her, even though she knows she shouldn’t. But it’s so easy to fall into her, to lean into her arms and breathe her in and let herself believe that maybe everything will be okay (she doesn’t believe that though, not for a second – what they’re doing is risky, so, so risky, and Alison isn’t confident that they’ll all be able to make it out of this in one piece and the thought it terrifying, suffocating, so she lets herself lose herself in Emily Fields for just a little while, tries not to think about anything other than how amazing it feels to be wrapped up in her once again, even if it’s only for a little while).

When they go their separate ways later that afternoon, Emily murmurs ‘this will all work out’ into her ear like it’s a promise but Alison knows that it’s not one she can keep, and she brushes a gentle kiss to Alison’s mouth that she still feels burning her lips even as she’s slipping through her front door and praying that, save for Pepe, she’ll find the house empty.

She doesn’t know where Jason is or if he’s even coming back, and her Dad had been thankfully absent when she’d crept back into the house with Mona in tow and doesn’t seem to be back now, either, so Alison decides to do what she’d settled on when she’d been watching Mona trawl through their computer and saw her Mom’s secrets laid bare, and try to find some more of them.

Her Mom wouldn’t have been expecting Alison or her Dad to move back home before she was murdered, so Alison’s sure she wouldn’t have hidden things as well as she would have if she wasn’t living alone. She starts in the study, rifling through drawers and stacks of paper, Pepe curled up in the centre of the room chewing on a bone she’d bought him the other day. She finds more than she ever would have wanted to, notes from fundraisers, cheques made out to some of the accounts Mona had uncovered – she even finds a handwritten letter, her breath catching when she sees the way it’s signed (Love, C.D), but she can’t force herself to read the words. She wants to burn it, wishes she could burn the memory of Charles from her mind but she can’t, so she settles for burying it at the bottom of her pile of evidence with shaking fingers.

She finds a photo, too, hidden away at the bottom of a drawer in a boring-looking folder named ‘Bills’ that Alison would have never looked inside had she not been checking everywhere, and when she shakes the folder and a single photograph falls out, landing face-up on the floor, she releases a shaky breath.

Because staring up at her are her brother and her Mom, both smiling happily, and beside Jason is another, older boy, with the unmistakable blue eyes of a DiLaurentis, a wide grin on his face as he looks at the camera, and Alison looks at him and wonders how he could have become the monster that has been haunting her for so long.

“Is that him?” She jumps at the sound of a voice, not expecting it – she glares at Pepe for not warning her as her heart hammers loudly in her chest, but he’s too busy gnawing at the end of his bone to be paying any attention to what’s going on around him, and she sighs as her eyes lift to land on her brother’s, who stands in the doorway looking down at the photo with a torn look on his face.

“Yeah, that’s him.” She bends to pick up the photograph and hands it to Jason, and has to look away when she sees his eyes fill with tears.

“They made me think I was crazy,” he murmurs eventually, gripping the photo so hard that his hand shakes, his knuckles flashing white. “That I made him up. Why would they do that? Why would they hide this from us?”

“I don’t know,” Alison shakes her head, because she wishes they hadn’t, maybe it would have changed so much, if things were different – maybe this whole nightmare would have ended with Mona, and she could have come back to a town where her Mom was still alive and she wasn’t still forced to look over her shoulder.

“How did you… how did you even find out about him?” Jason’s question is a mixture of curiosity and accusation, and Alison’s been debating, ever since she’d seen the look of betrayal on his face as their Dad had told them about Charles, how much she should tell him if he asked.

“It’s a long story,” she warns, because she’d decided to tell him the truth, in-case this affects him, too, because maybe Charles wouldn’t be satisfied with meddling with just one of his siblings’ lives. “And telling it… I haven’t exactly been honest with you, either.” She doesn’t what to expect from telling him this, how he’ll take being lied to again by a member of his family, but she figures it’ll do more harm if he finds out from someone else – and if she and the girls get their way, the whole story’s going to come out anyway, sooner rather than later.

“Okay,” he nods, his gaze turning wary, and Alison’s hands wrap around the back of the chair in-front of the desk and she rolls it towards him as she hops onto the edge of the desk.

“You might wanna sit down.” She tells him everything, and she starts at the beginning. She starts with the texts she’d gotten from Mona, though she hadn’t known that at the time, and she tells him about being buried in the backyard (she looks at her hands when she tells that part, because it’s only the second time she’s said it aloud and she doesn’t want to see the look on his face, because reliving it is hard enough). She admits that she wasn’t actually kidnapped (he scoffs when she says that, and throws her a ‘well, _duh_ ’ look, and she wonders if _anyone_ actually believes that story), skims over her two years away but not why she stayed hidden, before she moves on to what the girls have been going through in her absence, how it hadn’t stopped with Mona even though they’d told everyone that it had. Finally, she goes through how it was she’d ended up back in town, and how the texts had started up again, and how she’d found Charles name hidden in a file from Radley, and when she’s done they sit there in silence for a long while, as she waits from him to process what she’s just told him.

“Wow,” he breathes, eventually, letting out a low whistle. “Ali, I… I had no idea what you’ve been through, god, I’m so sorry.” She nods, because even though she doesn’t need or want his sympathy, she’s just relieved that he’s not pissed at her for keeping so much from him. “You really… you really think our brother is the one doing this to you?”

“I think so.” She doesn’t _want_ to think so, wants to believe that, somewhere out there is a brother who wants to come home and be a part of their family again, but she knows in her gut that that’s not true, how naïve it is.

“If there’s anything you need me to do,” he replies, his voice fierce as his eyes meet hers. “ _Anything_ , Ali, you tell me, okay? I don’t care if he’s our brother, if he does anything to hurt you…” He trails off, eyes flashing with something dangerous. “I don’t want you to be scared to be here anymore.”

She’s kind of taken aback by his reaction, and a little floored, because the Jason she used to know wouldn’t have responded like this (she wouldn’t have been close enough to the old Jason to even tell him any of this in the first place), and her throat feels tight when she sees the sincerity on his face.

“I will,” she promises, even though she knows there isn’t a single thing that could make her admit she was in trouble if it put him in danger. “Thank you.”


	29. Chapter 29

“This is a bad idea,” Emily says as she’s manhandled into a sitting position on the edge of her bed by Hanna, the blonde kneeling behind her and setting about curling the brunette’s hair. “This is such an astronomically bad idea.”

It’s not the first time she’s said those words since this plan had been revealed to her – Alison had worked it out with Mona and Spencer, first, before she’d taken Emily aside and explained it, and Emily had just looked at the blonde with horror in her eyes as she’d shook her head, because this is probably the most dangerous thing that Alison has ever done and Emily is terrified she’s going to lose her.

“It’ll be fine,” Hanna tries to reassure her, but she doesn’t sound too convincing, and Emily can feel her hands shaking as they run through her hair. She wants to shake Hanna off and tell her it doesn’t matter what she looks like for tonight but she knows that this is the only way Hanna is managing to keep herself calm so she doesn’t say a word, just sits and lets the blonde’s hands comb through her hair as she tries to tame it and lets her mind wander.

Even though it’s been several days since they’d found the name Charles in a dusty Radley file, it still hasn’t really sunk in for her, or any of them, that A is probably going to turn out to be Alison’s brother. Emily knows that it’s hit Alison harder than the others, hates that she hasn’t really been able to talk about it with her – she knows that Alison’s practically moved out of her house and is living in Spencer’s barn with Melissa away in London, knows that her family has been torn apart by this and hates that she can’t be there for her, not in the way that she _should_ be.

Tonight might change that, though. Because tonight might be the night they can catch A once and for all, put them away for good, and with A out of the way there’s nothing stopping the two of them from being together.

But the thought of what comes between then and now has panic surging through Emily’s chest, her hands, folded in her lap, trembling, and she wishes that there were another way to do this, that Alison wouldn’t have to put herself in the line of fire to pull this off, but they’ve talked about it, argued about it, between the five of them for the past four days now and hadn’t been able to come up with a viable alternative.

And now the day has come, the day of the winter ball, and it’s too late for them to try anything else.

When Hanna’s finished with her hair they do their make-up side by side in Emily’s mirror and she’s glad that Hanna had invited herself over here earlier that day because Emily’s not sure what she would have done if she were alone with her thoughts, if she’d allowed the worry to take over her completely.

It feels like it’s too soon, when the clock strikes seven and they’re slipping into their dresses and heading out of the front door, and Emily feels sick as they drive through the Rosewood streets to where the ball’s being held, wondering if (hoping that) this is the night where her life changes for good.

“You ready?” Hanna asks her as she pauses outside the doors, and Emily’s too numb to be able to answer, can only nod, and she isn’t sure she can force herself to move. Hanna’s hand slides into her own and she tugs her forwards, and Emily releases her breath as they step over the threshold and into the winter wonderland within.

Caleb stands with Toby and Ezra on one side of the room, and Hanna veers towards them immediately, releasing Emily’s hand to instead reach for Caleb, pulling him into a hug, and Emily moves to beside Toby and tries to remember how to breathe. The boys all know what’s happening tonight – they hadn’t been happy to learn what their girlfriends had been doing behind their backs, with how much danger they’d put themselves in, but they were in the loop now, and Emily can feel the tension radiating off them and it doesn’t do a thing to calm her nerves.

“You okay?” Ezra murmurs into her ear after a few minutes of tense silence, and Emily knows that she should be acting like everything’s normal, that she’s practically a siren screaming ‘this is a trap’ with how she can’t stop wringing her hands, sure that the frantic beating of her heart must be audible but she doesn’t know how to stop it, doesn’t know how to calm down and she’s never had a panic attack before but she wonders if this is what it feels like, as she finds it hard to breathe.

“I’ve been better.”

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you,” he promises, a protective edge to his voice that’s echoed by Toby’s murmur of agreement and Caleb’s fierce nod, his hands wrapped tightly around Hanna’s waist like he’s afraid to let her go. “Any of you.”

She wishes that she could believe them, but she can’t. They’ve been close too many times, _hurt_ too many times, and A has always been at least three steps ahead and Emily thinks it will be a miracle if that hasn’t changed, if Charles doesn’t see tonight coming from a mile away.

She catches sight of Mona out of the corner of her eye, heading towards them with Mike in tow, her hand wrapped in his. “It’s done,” she murmurs as she brushes past them, quiet enough for Mike not to hear. “So get yourselves ready, cause shit’s about to get real.”

 _That_ doesn’t do anything to assuage Emily’s rising panic, and she has to remind herself to take deep, calming breaths as the four of them wait, and this is the worst part, the _waiting_ , and Emily wishes that she’d been able to swap places with Spencer and Aria, because at least then she’d be with Alison and she’d know that she was _okay_.

She doesn’t have to wait long for the blonde to make her grand entrance, though. She’s the star of the show, the lost DiLaurentis, back with her family at last, and they’re counting on Charles not being able to resist the lure of his sister’s first very public appearance since she’d returned to Rosewood.

The doors on the opposite side of the room open to reveal Alison, flanked by Aria and Spencer, and Emily’s breath escapes her as a strangled gasp when she lays eyes on the blonde, because she looks _beautiful_ in a floor-length blue dress that clings to her in _all_ the right places, and Emily can’t tear her eyes away from Alison as she makes her way down the stairs and to the floor of the room, a smile plastered on her face that brightens when her eyes meet Emily’s.

“You look… you look amazing.” Emily reaches out for the blonde when she’s close enough to touch, her hands framing Alison’s hips and she looks so perfect that Emily can barely believe that she’s real.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Her eyes run appreciatively across Emily’s body, a longing look on her face and if there wasn’t so much riding on tonight she’d be tempted to take the blonde’s hand and drag her home to bed (there’s still a part of her that’s tempted by that, because at least then she would be _safe_ ).

She’s surprised when Alison leans up and kisses her, lips warm as they move against her own for one brief moment, and Emily blinks down at her in shock when she pulls away, her hands still clasped behind Emily’s neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Tonight was supposed to be ours,” Alison murmurs quietly, her eyes a brilliant blue in the ethereal light of the ballroom. “And if the world’s going to go to hell in a couple of hours’ time, I want to spend every second before then with you.”

Emily leans down to kiss her again, hard and bruising, pouring all of her worry and her anxiety into it, and Alison groans quietly into her mouth when their tongues meet for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hanna interrupts them after a few minutes, an amused note to her voice. “You might want to keep it PG-13 or you’re gonna get yourselves thrown out of here.” They break apart to find a few disapproving looks being thrown their way, which Alison gets rid of with one of her signature glares.

“Sorry,” Emily murmurs, but she’s not even a little bit sorry, because she hasn’t kissed Alison beyond a brief peck since that day in her hallway where they’d torn at each other’s clothes and it’s been driving her crazy since, her being so close but seeming so far away, and when tonight has ended Emily doesn’t ever want to go so long without feeling Alison in her arms again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hanna replies, grinning. “We’re going to go dance.” She tugs on Caleb’s hand and starts to drag him away. “Remember – act normal.”

“I don’t even know what normal is anymore,” Emily murmurs, her voice close to Alison’s ear with the way the blonde’s wrapped up in her arms.

“You will,” Alison promises, lifting her head so that their eyes meet, hers filled with warmth. “When A is gone your life will be so normal it’ll be boring.”

“As long as you’re with me it’ll never be boring,” Emily replies softly, her eyes sparkling, and she feels some of her nerves ebb away with the weight of Alison’s gaze, so open and loving, on her, like she’s staring into her soul.

“I’ll be with you for as long as you want me.”

“Forever,” she breathes in reply, because she might only be eighteen years old but she’s been in love with this woman for almost as long as she can remember, and the thought of living a life without her in it, of ever loving another person for as long as she lives… it’s incomprehensible, and she swears that one day she’s going to marry this woman and spend the rest of her life with her.

“Forever it is.” There’s a bright smile on Alison’s face as she seals the promise with a kiss, before she’s pulling away and taking Emily’s hand. “Come dance with me.”

Emily lets Alison tug her towards the dancefloor, her hands finding Alison’s hips as the blonde’s wind around her neck once again, and they sway easily along to the slow song that’s coursing through the room, and Emily can’t take her eyes away from the blonde in her arms, from the love she sees staring back at her. She’d never expected to have this, to have any of this, and each and every day with Alison is another day she’s thankful to be alive, and she prays for a hundred more dances, a lifetime of kisses, of waking up with Alison in her arms and falling asleep in them every single night.

The future’s so close that she can taste it, but she knows there’s still a pretty huge obstacle in the way, and her hands tighten at Alison’s waist at that thought. She swears she can feels eyes on them and shivers, glancing over Alison’s shoulder, but there’s no black hoodie moving through the crowd that swells at the edges of the room, and she knows that she’s stupid for even looking, that if A is here they’ll be hiding in plain sight.

“You okay?” Alison asks, her hand curling around Emily’s cheek and directing her gaze back towards the blonde, her fingers warm on Emily’s skin.

“I’m worried about you,” she murmurs in reply, turning her had to press a kiss to Alison’s palm. “About tonight.”

“It’ll be fine. _I’ll_ be fine. You won’t be far away.”

“But I won’t be at your side, either.” She can’t stand the thought of letting Alison out of her sight, of letting her disappear out of view in the hope that Charles won’t be able to resist following her, and the thought makes her heart pound with fear. “I wish I could change your mind.”

“It’s too late, now,” Alison reminds her, her voice soft. “Mona’s already drained his accounts, and it’s me he’s going to be looking for.”

“And what if he doesn’t show up tonight? What if he’s waiting until you’re on your own, alone and vulnerable, without anyone around to protect you? There a hundred things that could go wrong tonight and I… I can’t… if something happens to you - ”

“Nothing’s going to.” But Emily shakes her head, because she can’t promise that, can’t promise she’ll be safe because none of them _know_ that and Emily’s dreams last night had been haunted by a shadowy figure whisking Alison away, never to be seen again, and the thought paralyzes her with terror.

“You don’t know that.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure as hell not going down without a fight.” Alison’s expression turns fierce, and Emily forces herself to remember that Alison had survived for two years alone out on the street, that Alison is a survivor and can take care of herself, but it does little to assuage the emotions swirling in her gut. “This is our chance to end this, Em, once and for all.”

“We could’ve waited it out,” Emily replies stubbornly, because she refuses to accept that Alison offering herself up as bait has become their best option.

“No, we couldn’t.” Alison’s expression turns dark, and Emily wonders if she’s thinking about how hard these past couple of weeks apart have been. “And regardless – we all agree that Charles is planning something big, with how much cash he’s been spending recently. You really want to just wait around and see what that is?”

She sighs, because _no_ , she doesn’t, because the amount of money disappearing from his accounts every week is obscene, and they’d all looked at the numbers with apprehension and wondered what the hell he was spending it on, and praying that they’d never find out.

“This is the best way.” Emily still disagrees, but she’s sick of arguing, sick of talking about this, because if she thinks about it for even just one more second she’s sure she’s going to throw up. So instead she leans down to press her lips against Alison’s, trying to lose herself in the blonde and to forget about everything else but the feel of Alison against her, the smooth silk of her dress beneath her fingertips, the heat of her body as it sways against hers, the way her nails scrape gently against the back of Emily’s neck and over her scalp as they run through her hair.

She never wants to stop kissing her, never wants to pull away, because she knows that when they do, Alison will slip away from her and see what danger will follow. So Emily’s hands tighten around her, one splayed across her thigh and the other at her hip, and she holds Alison so close that it’s a wonder she can breathe.

But all too soon it comes to end, Alison leaning back and trying to catch her breath – Emily’s eyes drop to her heaving chest, eyeing the cleavage her dress reveals appreciatively and wishing they were anywhere other than here, and she’d be tempted to drag Alison into the nearest bathroom stall if she wasn’t terrified of being followed.

“Wait until this song finishes,” Emily pleads, seeing the look in Alison’s eyes as they harden, prepared to face all of their fears, and the blonde nods with a small smile.

Slow dancing with Alison is amazing as Emily had always thought it would be, those times where she’d watched the blonde with a guy from across the room at every school dance she’d ever gone to when Alison had been around, and she prays that this won’t be the last time that she gets to do this.

She glances over Alison’s shoulder to see their friends and their boyfriends surrounding them, and she thinks about how nice it would have been, to share this night together, if they were just normal teenagers, the eight of them all together.

And then the song is finished, and Alison’s arms are dropping from around her neck, and Emily is seized with panic that she has to try hard not to show on her face.

“We won’t be far behind,” she breathes, curling one hand around Alison’s cheek and pressing their foreheads together. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Alison promises, and she presses her lips against Emily’s for a brief kiss, filled with an aching desperation that Emily hopes isn’t a goodbye, before she’s slipping away, darting through the crowd and walking with open arms towards certain danger and Emily can only stand and watch her go.

“She’s going to be fine.” Spencer’s voice appears behind her, and she turns to see the brunette at her shoulder, grim smile on her face. “Ready to do this?” Emily has never felt so simultaneously ready and completely unprepared for something in her entire life – she wants an ending to this horror story that’s been her life for so long, but she’s terrified about _how_ it’s going to end, is still apprehensive about this plan actually working in the first place, half-convinced that they’re about to walk straight into a trap.

But Alison had been right, and they couldn’t just sit around and wait for A’s next move forever. It was about time they stepped up, before it was too late to be able to stop whatever A was planning, and Emily thinks about what it would be like, to go into the new year knowing that the A mystery was behind them, once and for all.

So she nods and takes Spencer’s outstretched hand, squeezes it gently as they walk together to the edge of the room, her eyes never leaving Alison’s back the entire time. Caleb and Hanna are with Aria on the other side of the room, and Ezra and Toby talk to one another on the steps that Alison had made her entrance on, towering several inches above everyone else, their eyes constantly scanning the crowd.

Emily watches Alison pause at the drinks table, grabbing a glass of champagne and downing it in three gulps before she sets the glass back down. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a photograph that she had shown Emily and the girls a few days ago, the only one she’d managed to find of Charles, as well as a tiny toy she’d found rooting through her attic that belonged to him as a kid. Alison had decided on making things as personal as possible to try and lure him out, and Emily wonders if it’s working, if Charles is somewhere nearby watching Alison closely, wonders what he thinks, about his sister finally discovering who he is.

She can’t imagine how Alison must feel, wondering if she’s going to come face to face with her brother tonight.  Alison swears that A’s identity doesn’t change a thing for her, but Emily thinks that it must, at least on some level, can’t imagine how Alison must be feeling about the whole thing, how painful it must have been to read his name in that file, to come to terms with her own flesh and blood being the one out to get her.

There’s a look of steely determination on Alison’s face when she turns around, though, rather than one of apprehension and fear, and Emily knows that in her mind she’s running through every single thing that A has done to each of the girls. She wonders if she’s remembering the day in that warehouse where Emily had been convinced that she was going to be sawed in half, or of the feeling of a scarf being pulled tight around her own throat, attacked in her own home. Or of how much it hard hurt to walk away from Emily again, of how torturous it has been for them both to stay away.

Alison’s eyes find Emily’s, and the smile that crosses her face is radiant, and Emily’s breath catches as she prepares herself for what’s about to happen, and when she nods back Alison’s smile drops and she turns and walks away, into the ice maze that her Dad had thought would be a good idea to include, and out of everyone’s sight.

Emily knows that Toby and Spencer have already been in there, have checked that no-one else was there before Alison stepped inside, knows that there’s nowhere within where a person could be hiding.

Which means that if Charles is going to use the busy party as an excuse to see his sister, then he has to follow her inside, and the seven people tensely watching the entrance will see him make his move.

It’s not easy, for Emily to pretend that her attention is elsewhere, when all she really wants to do is stare at the entrance to the maze until her eyes burn, but they’re at least _trying_ to be subtle, even though it’s probably perfectly obvious to Charles that this is some sort of trap. Mona and Spencer had been hopeful, though, that he’d be so enraged by them finding and removing his source of funding that he’d come out of hiding anyway, and Emily’s just hoping that they’re right, because if he doesn’t appear them Alison is in even more danger, because there’s no way they can keep an eye on her every minute of every day.

It isn’t long before they see a flash of movement – a person shaded from view in a white throw, their face obscured by the large hood moves stealthily towards the entrance of the maze and glances in before hurrying inside, and Emily’s hand grips Spencer’s wrist, _hard_ , when she sees them.

“I think we just got our first glimpse of Charles,” Spencer murmurs, and Emily’s barely breathing as they move as one towards the entrance of the maze, Hanna and Aria meeting them there, the boys only a step behind the four of them.

“Ready?” Spencer asks and Emily glances at the other girls faces and knows that they never will be, but somewhere in this maze Alison will soon be alone with their tormentor, and it’s that thought that propels her forward, her feet moving quickly as she struggles not to run, Spencer on her left and Hanna and Aria on her right, and Emily doesn’t know how she’s supposed to feel as they rush towards the middle of the maze to where Alison is waiting.

It’s tantalising, to know that they’re so close to an end, but she knows that she can’t be too hopeful until that hood is pushed down and until A is in police custody (they’re here, too, waiting in the wings, and Emily has no idea how Alison managed to tell them the whole story without Charles finding out (or without her getting herself arrested for lying about the kidnapping), but that’s a question for another day), so she bites it down and tries not to let her worry overtake her, instead.

They find Alison stood with her back against a wall and the hooded figure standing a few feet in-front of her – she’s still holding the photograph in one hand and the toy in the other, and they shake as she stares at the person before her, and Emily knows she’s trying to prepare herself for who she’s about to see.

The figure turns when they hear the girls behind them, as they spread out and block the exit with the boys behind them, and Emily hears the click of a gun and widens her eyes when she turns her head to see Toby holding one steady, the muzzle trained at the figure’s head.

“Wasn’t taking any chances,” he mutters when he sees the girls’ looks of bewilderment, and even though Emily hates guns, has horrific flashbacks whenever she hears gunfire on the TV or in movies after what had happened to her in that lighthouse, she’s glad that he has it, that his hands don’t even tremble as he holds it aloft. “Take off the hood.”

Emily’s mind flashes back to the last time they’d had A at gunpoint, on a windy rooftop in New York City with all four girls at her side, when they all foolishly allowed themselves to believe that it would finally be over.

But this time there’s no place to run to, no place to hide, and she watches as the person before them realises that, their gloved hands clenching into fists at their side as Toby repeats his demand, his tone suggesting that he’s not going to ask for a third time. She watches with baited breath as those same hands curl around the hood and tug it down, and when Emily sees the face reflected back at her in the mirrors her breath escapes her as a gasp of recognition, echoed by the other girls around her, and Spencer is the first one of them to find their voice.

“Game over, _Charles_.”


	30. Epilogue

_Eight months later…_

“Alison.” Pam Fields opens the door with a smile on her face, stepping aside to let the blonde into the house – she has to dodge the cardboard boxes the litter the floor, many more than had been there the last time Alison had been here. “Excuse the mess.”

“It’s fine,” Alison replies with a smile of her own. “Do you need any help?”

“Nah, we’re fine.” Wayne Fields appears at the top of the stairs with another box held in his hands. “Go see your girl.” Alison grins as she passes him, darting up the stairs and into Emily’s room. Inside it is bare, the walls stripped of all their photographs, her wardrobe and cupboards sitting in the hallway outside, her bed now just a mattress on the floor, which she finds the brunette sitting on the edge of, attention focused on her laptop.

“Hey, beautiful,” she murmurs, after pausing to watch Emily for a few moments, leaning her shoulder on the doorway – she looks up at the sound of Alison’s voice and smiles, her eyes lighting up as they meet her girlfriend’s before she reaches out a hand towards her, tugging Alison down beside her when she takes it.

“Hey yourself.” Emily’s lips press against her cheek as arms wind around her waist, her chin resting on Alison’s shoulder.

 _“You know we’re still here, right?”_ Alison’s eyes land on Emily’s laptop screen and she grins when she sees the faces of their friends staring back at her, hadn’t realised that the noise she’d heard from the brunette’s computer had been a skype call.

“Hey, guys,” Alison replies, as she relaxes back in Emily’s arms. “How’s UPenn, Spence?”

 _“Amazing_ ,” she gushes, practically glowing, and Alison smiles, remembering the look of complete shock and joy on her face the day that she’d been in the Hasting’s kitchen when Spencer had gotten her acceptance letter. _“Everything I always dreamed.”_

“And how’s your internship, Aria?”

 _“Still kicking my ass,”_ she says with a slightly wistful sigh. _“But it’s been incredible, and I can’t wait to see you guys next week. It’s been so long.”_ Aria had spent the entire summer in California after she’d won a photography competition, and it’s been months since any of the other girls saw her in person, though they have a weekly skype date that they’ve all promised to keep up throughout the college year.

“ _You excited, Em?”_ Hanna asks, and Alison knows that she’s going to miss the brunette the most – she’d gotten a fashion internship in New York, and had moved to the city a few weeks ago. They still see her at least once a week, but with Emily starting college at Stanford in just under two weeks, it’ll be a while before they see each face-to-face for a while.

“Yes and no.” She tightens her arms around Alison’s waist reflexively, and Alison knows that she’s thinking of the three months that they’re going to spend apart. Summer school and working her ass off has meant that Alison will have enough credits to graduate in January, and she’s already been accepted at Stanford to start at the beginning of the year. “It’s going to be weird knowing that when I leave this house, I won’t ever be coming back.”

Without Emily and her ties to keep her in Rosewood, Emily’s Mom is moving down to Texas to be closer to her Dad. They’ve been packing up their stuff all summer – it has led to she and Emily having a dozen excuses to take long road trips – and are moving the last of it tomorrow, after Emily’s started the long drive across to the other side of the country.

Alison’s going with her, and flying back to Rosewood the weekend before Emily’s semester actually starts, and she’s excited at the prospect of getting to spend so much time alone with the brunette, even if she knows that afterwards, she’s going to be without her for a long time. But she thinks of driving on the open road (she’d finally gotten her licence, so she can do her fair share of the work), Emily’s hand in her own on her thigh, of many nights spent in motel rooms, waking up in one another’s arms, and she thinks it’ll be the perfect end to the perfect summer.

It’s been a perfect _year_ , so far. A is gone and a new one hasn’t popped up in their place, leaving the girls in peace for the first time in as long as any of them can remember. She and Emily have been together ever since the night of the winter ball, and though it hasn’t always been an easy ride Alison knows that she’ll never want to be with anyone else for as long as she lives, because Emily Fields is it, for her, and she knows that one day she’s going to ask this woman to marry her and she’s going to grow old with her at her side.

The girls sign off a little while later, and as soon as the screen’s faded to black Emily is tugging Alison around so that she’s straddling the brunette’s lap, her laugh at Emily’s eagerness muffled by the brunette’s mouth as it presses against her own.

“You got everything packed up?” She asks when they part, her hands on Emily’s shoulders as she rests their foreheads together.

“Mhm.” Emily’s hands run up and down her sides gently, and Alison shudders beneath the absent touch – no matter how many times they’re together like this, no matter how many times Emily kisses her or touches her, it never fails to drive her wild, to make her blood pound and her heart race, and she prays that that never changes. “You sure you’re going to be okay here on your own?”

“I’ll be fine,” she promises. School’s starting up soon and she knows that, even though she’s gotten a place at Stanford, she still needs to get the grades. Matt’s gone off to college, too, but he’s not too far away and has promised to visit her often, and she still has her job at the stables to keep her occupied in the evenings. Things at home still aren’t perfect – Jason had moved out several months ago, and has barely talked to their Dad since, but Alison still manages to have a relationship with the both of them, though she’s closer to Jason than her Dad, thinks she’ll be spending quite a lot of time at his place in Philly, and while she’s there Spencer isn’t far away, either. “And it’s not too long.”

“Three months,” Emily reminds her with a pout that Alison wipes away with another kiss.

“We’ll talk every day,” Alison promises. “So much so that you’ll be sick of me, soon enough.”

“Impossible,” Emily murmurs, catching Alison’s lips in her own once again, and they don’t do much talking after that. They’re interrupted some time later by a light knock on the door, and Alison is quick to sit up from where she’d ended up straddling Emily’s hips after she’d pushed the brunette flat on her back on the mattress, and she stretches out a hand to pull Emily up, too, moving to sit beside her instead and trying to look as innocent as possible.

(It doesn’t work, she knows – both her Dad and Emily’s Mom have caught them at it far too many times for that, and eventually they’d given up on their open door policy as long as they both promised to be discrete about what they were getting up to behind closed doors).

“Come in,” Emily calls when they both look a little less like they’d been making out like the world was about to end, and Emily’s Dad cracks open the door, opening it wider when he’s sure they’re both decent.

“You guys hungry yet? Everything’s pretty much packed by now so we were thinking of heading down to the Grille.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Emily replies as Alison nods, the blonde rising to her feet and pulling Emily along with her. As they walk down the stairs and stand in the hall waiting for Emily’s parents, Alison marvels at how bizarre it is, to see the house that she’s spent more time in than her own, probably, over these past few months, stripped bare. She thinks of how odd it’s going to be, to drive past the Field’s house everyday on her way to school, and for strangers to be living there instead of Emily.

She thinks of what it’s going to be like in Rosewood, without Emily, and shudders. But it’s not as bleak a thought as it would have been, once upon a time, because Alison doesn’t feel as trapped here as she used to, not with A gone for good, and she thinks that she’ll almost be _sad_ when it comes time for her to leave, because for all its faults and for all the wicked memories that haunt her here, Rosewood is the place that had brought her Emily Fields – the place where they’d shared their first kiss, their first ‘I love yous’, and so many other milestones over the past few months.

She thinks it will be good, though, to move on from this place. To start the next chapter of her life, with the love of her life by her side, and she can’t wait for it to begin.


End file.
